“I don’t believe you.”
“I’m hurt, Miranda. Genuinely.” He presses his hand over his heart, and I don’t want to be charmed by his little act. I really don’t. But it’s hard to control that reluctant twitch of my lips.
I open my mouth to tell him exactly what he can do with his hurt feelings when a strand of hair falls loose across my cheek. Before I can reach up, his hand is already there, fingers light, tucking it carefully behind my ear. He doesn’t move away afterward. He just looks at me, and I forget, momentarily, what I was about to say.
“What do you even see in him?” he asks quietly.
My mouth opens. Nothing comes out.
“He’s...” I pull myself together. “He was cute.”
Grayson’s eyes sharpen immediately. “Was?”
“Is.” I say it too fast. “He is. I meant is.”
He laughs, low and genuine, and it does something irritating to my chest.
“Just leave,” he says. “Walk out.”
“I can’t do that. That’s incredibly rude.”
“Ruder than ordering for you?”
“The date is fine, Grayson. Mind your own business.”
He tilts his head toward the bathroom door I just came through. “You’ve spent a lot of time in here for someone having a fine date.”
I breathe in slowly through my nose. “I said mind your own business.”
I turn and walk away, but his hand catches my wrist, gentle but certain, and spins me back around. I collide with his chest, and before I can get my balance back, his mouth brushes mine, quick and soft, over before it began.
He leans back, but I grab his jaw in my hand, squishing his features. “I will kill you.”
Lips puckered together, he grins. “Oh no.”
I push his face away, trying not to think of how his touch makes me feel weak in the knees. Annoyed, I run my hands over my dress, and the shameless man has the nerve to blink at me. “You should go back to your date.”
I flip him off as I walk away and hear him laugh behind me.
Jerk.
I’m still composing myself when I reach the edge of the dining room. I spot my table from a few feet away and stop.
The waitress is still there, leaning slightly toward Axel, laughing at something he said. He is writing something on a napkin and slides it across to her. She tucks it into her apron, her fingers brushing his hand, and then she sees me. She doesn’t leave. She just straightens up and takes one small step back, the smile still sitting on her face.
Axel hasn’t noticed me yet.
I feel nothing dramatic. No heartbreak, no rage. Just a cold, clean disgust, and a deep and profound relief that I can finally end this date.
I walk to the table and reach for my bag.
“There you are.” Axel leans back, completely unbothered, and picks up his wine glass.
The waitress reaches for something, and her elbow swings wide, catching a wine glass. It flies across the table, splashing wine all over the front of my dress. I suck in a sharp breath.
“Oh no.” Her hand flies to her mouth. Her eyes are bright with unconcealed delight. “I am so sorry. I didn’t see you standing there.”
She’s already grabbing napkins, pressing them into the stain with both hands, working it deeper into the fabric with every dab.
