He strokes my cheeks with his thumbs, studying my face as if he’s memorizing it. “We have this whole weekend to ourselves. There isn’t anybody here who knows you. So, you have nothing to worry about. No reason to push me away.”
He’s right. Nobody here knows me. Nobody here will judge me for being with him.
But I’ll know. And I’ll have to live with choosing someone who believes in things I find abhorrent.
The thought should make me pull away. Instead, I find myself leaning into his touch.
What does that make me?
“That’s not what I—”
“Just dinner,” he murmurs, kissing the tip of my nose. His lips brush over my cheek. “We won’t do anything else. Just have a nice meal together.” His mouth moves to my jaw. “Enjoy each other’s company.”
I should say no. Should tell him I need time to think.
“Fine,” I whisper instead.
He grins, and it transforms his face. Makes him look younger, lighter. “That’s my girl. Go get dressed.”
It takes me five minutes to change, and we head out.
The restaurant he takes me to isn’t fancy, but it is intimate, strung with soft, white lights that cast everything in a warm glow. We sit at a small table overlooking the water, the Atlantic Ocean spreading dark and vast before us.
The sound of waves fills the silence at our table.
A waiter appears, and Darius orders for both of us without asking what I want. Steak, medium rare, with roasted vegetables.
I raise an eyebrow at him when the waiter leaves.
“Trust me,” he says simply.
When the food arrives, the steak appears perfectly cooked, the meat tender and seasoned just right. I reach for my knife, but Darius’s hand covers mine.
“Let me.”
He takes my plate and cuts the steak into bite-sized pieces with precise, efficient movements. Then, he slides it back to me.
A strange warmth unfurls in my chest. The gesture is intimate. Caring. The kind of thing you do for someone you—
I push the thought away and pick up my fork.
“Why did you choose this place?” I ask.
He looks out at the ocean. “Because it’s by the water.” Back to me. “I wanted you to have an unforgettable experience.”
My breath catches. The way he says it, the intensity in his gaze, makes it clear he’s not just talking about the restaurant.
“It’s beautiful,” I say quietly.
“You’re beautiful.”
My pulse quickens. I look down at my plate, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.
We eat in silence for a while. The tension from earlier has transformed into something else. Something softer but no less charged.
After dinner, we walk along the beach. I slip off my shoes, and he does the same. The sand is cool beneath my feet,having lost the warmth of the day. Water laps at the shore, close enough that the occasional wave washes over my toes.
Darius’s hand finds mine.
