“Always.”
The drive to the restaurant is maybe five minutes, mainly on the highway, and it’s enough to calm my nerves.
“I’m so hungry,” I tell Blake as soon as we get out of the car.
“Good,” he smiles as he opens the door for me.
The restaurant is quiet in the best possible way. Low lighting. Soft music. White tablecloths that make me sit straighter without meaning to.
Blake pulls out my chair before I even realize what he’s doing.
“Gentleman point number two,” he says.
“I did not agree to a scoring system.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I did not.”
“You set the rules. I’m winning.”
I laugh before I can stop myself.
“That is not how this works,” I tell him.
“That’s exactly how this works.”
He waits until I’m seated before sitting across from me. There’s a moment where neither of us reaches for the menu, which is strange. Comfortable. Unexpected.
“You’re nervous,” he says.
“I’m not.”
“You adjusted your earrings four times.”
“You noticed that?”
“I notice everything about you.”
That should be illegal.
“I’m not nervous,” I repeat.
“You are.”
“You’re smug.”
“I am.”
I smile despite myself.
Dinner starts easily. Too easily. Which feels suspicious. We order wine. He lets me choose. He doesn’t comment when I hesitate over the price.
He just says quietly,“Get anything you want.”
Another gentleman point.
“So,” he says once the waiter leaves, leaning back slightly.“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
