“Okay,” I decide. “Let’s do it.”
“Great. My place, eight o’clock.”
“Nope.” Pushing off the wall, I walk back toward my class. “Eight o’clock is fine, but we’ll eat at Callie’s.” Callie’s is a restaurant that’s opened in the past year. I’d rather not be alone with Seth in a private location where my inhibitions might vanish. Likewise, I don’t want to revisit any of our old haunts and suffer through nostalgia.
“My place is more private,” he argues, as though that’s a positive.
“Exactly.” I pause in the corridor outside my room. “Callie’s at eight. I’ll see you there.” I hang up before he can disagree.
7
Seth
I’ve worn more button-down shirts this month than I have in the past three years combined, but if this is what it takes to win Ashlin, it’s not a big ask. I’m keeping my list in the front of my mind: dress nice, remind her of good times and why she used to love me, show her I’ve changed for the better. To that end, I’m five minutes early and claim a table in the back corner of the trendy, modern restaurant as far from other patrons as possible. I want her all to myself.
While I wait, I look around. Callie’s has a nice atmosphere. Warm and intimate, with dim lighting and the kind of waitstaff who call you sir or ma’am. There are a few people here, but not so many that I feel crowded, and none of them spare me a second glance. There was a time when I drew attention everywhere I went, but my years of fame have passed, and these days, it’s my students who are worshiped by the masses. Strangely, I prefer it that way. If you’d told me ten years ago that I’d grow tired of hearing thousands of people scream my name, I’d have called you a liar. Yet here I am. Interesting how the world works.
“Excuse me, sir.” A waiter approaches, smiling politely. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Whatever beer you’ve got on tap, thanks.” I hesitate for a moment, then add, “A cranberry juice too.”
Are women allowed to drink alcohol when they’re hoping to get pregnant? I can’t remember for sure, but I have a fuzzy memory of Ashlin sticking to juice and soda while we were trying last time. I swear under my breath as a thought occurs to me. Does she even like cranberry anymore? As far as I know, her tastes could have changed.
The waiter returns with our drinks, and I sip my beer while keeping an eye on the door. Finally, a couple of minutes late, she enters. Everything inside me seizes. If I thought she was beautiful last time I saw her, it’s nothing compared to this. She dazzles me. Her hair is sleek and silky, perfectly framing her delicate face, and a silver chain around her neck draws my attention to the expanse of skin visible above the V-neck of her dress.
And that dress.
It’s a sheath that hugs the line of her body down her narrow waist and slightly curved hips, over legs that seem much longer than I know them to be considering she barely tops five feet. Worst of all, it’s held up by a bow that’s tied behind her neck. If I were to tug on the end of the ribbon, the whole thing would pool at her feet.
She meets my eyes, but doesn’t smile, and I hate that. The Ashlin I knew was constantly on the verge of smiling—at least until the last few months. This reserved version of her is a stranger in many ways, and I’ll have to earn her trust all over again when I’d rather just toss her over my shoulder and announce that she’s mine. I stand as she approaches, and find myself leaning close to kiss her cheek, only to stop when I’m a couple of inches away.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “Old habits.”
Fuck man, why you gotta be so awkward?
“It’s okay.” She smooths over the moment by patting my cheek and giving me the smile I crave. God, this is what I miss about her. Always sandpapering over my rough exterior. “You got me a drink?”
“Cranberry. Wasn’t sure what you like these days.”
She sinks into a chair and slides the glass toward herself. “This is good, thanks.” When she sips, she leaves a pink smudge on the rim of the glass from her lipstick. Then she draws a small notepad from her purse, along with a pen, and sets them beside her. “You wanted to talk about where we go from here?”
I hide my wince. Honestly, while I claimed this wasn’t a date, I’d hoped it might be a little more casual. She’s ready to get down to business. How am I supposed to woo her if she’s taking notes? “Yeah. But maybe we can order first.”
“Fair enough.” She raises her hand, and the waiter returns in record time, his expression a whole lot friendlier than it was before. “Hi.” She bestows her one-of-a-kind smile on him. “Could my friend and I trouble you for a menu, please?”
“Absolutely.” The guy’s eyes dart to her ring finger and find it empty. His grin broadens. Meanwhile, my fists clench in my lap. A good part of the reason I married Ashlin was to ward off opportunists like this little shit. Unfortunately, her rings are probably sitting in her dresser. I doubt she’d have pawned them. That’s just not the kind of person she is.
He passes her a menu. “Shall I wait, or come back in a few minutes?”
“Give us a couple of minutes.” She tucks her hair behind her ear, and his gaze lingers on the graceful line of her neck. My fingernails dig into my palms. He’d better remove his eyes from her body before I forget that she isn’t mine anymore and do something I regret. I clear my throat, give him a meaningful look. He backs away.
Ashlin chuckles. “You were never good with people. Nice to see some things don’t change.”
“It’s not all people that I have a problem with,” I grumble. I don’t explain myself, and she doesn’t ask for more. Together, we scan the options, and when the waiter returns, I order a steak while Ashlin asks for quinoa salad.
“What happened to the girl who’d down a hamburger in three seconds flat?” I tease.
She sighs, and her breath stirs her bangs. “Thirty happened. My metabolism doesn’t bounce back the way it used to. I still eat burgers sometimes, but I have to go for a run to work it off.”
