“I… never expected to find you here.” I bring my hands together. “You didn’t exactly tell me how successful you were.”
“You didn’t ask me.”
I bite back a smile. “Fair point. I guess I thought the club was enough.”
“Is money a turn-off for you?” He eyes me with that curiosity that makes him seem more alluring.
“No.” There is no girl on earth that would be turned off by money.
“Good. Then go to dinner with me.”
My eyes widen. Dinner? He wants to do dinner.
I’m not a nervous person, but everything about this guy has been the exception.
If this was years ago, I would have accepted straightaway. There’s no doubt that I like him. And dinner is harmless. Current me still thinks it’s harmless—for the most part—and I want to have the same seize-the-moment mindset I had back at the club and say yes. But I think better of it.
Liking him is exactly the problem, which sounds weird as hell. I’m sure that most women who have one-night stands with a guy like him would be jumping for joy at an invite to dinner. Levi Vale is a billionaire and sexy as hell.
The problem is me.
I want distance because I’m not ready. Not ready for whatever this could turn into.
The one night was a spur-of-the-moment decision. So was going home with him. It was like an adventure that doesn’t quite work in the real world.
He’s looking at me with expectancy, waiting for an answer. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna turn me down.”
“Sadly, I am.”
“Woah, I’ve never been turned down before.” He feigns surprise. “Must be losing my touch.”
I smile a little. “No, it’s not that. I’d love to go. I can’t right now.”
He gives me a thin stare and lifts his chin. “You don’t sound so certain to me.”
Because I’m not. I’m simply playing it safe. “The other night was great, but I moved to New York for a fresh start. I should be focusing on that.”
“Then one friendly dinner is a great place to start.”
“Onefriendlydinner?” There’s nothing about him that suggests he wants anything friendly.
He steps away from the window and moves closer, stopping a breath away from me. His cologne and the deep masculine scent of him wrap around me instantly, making it harder to remember every sensible reason I should be saying no.
“One friendly dinner.” He holds up one finger. “The kind of dinner where you can go home after if you wish. And I may not bother you again.”
Okay. That does sound doable and of the platonic nature. And I can hear Alexis’ voice in my head telling me to accept.
“One dinner?”
“Think of it as a goodbye dinner. Something to give us closure.”
“Closure?”
“You left before I woke up.”
“I thought I was supposed?—”
“No. Or I wouldn’t be here.” The certainty in his voice grips my insides. He inclines his head, and a grin slides over his lips. “I’ll send a car for you when you finish work.”
