Page 45 of Bossman

“Reese. Hey. Are you coming to Iron Horse?”

I wasn’t sure if it was just me, or if everyone felt awkward. Perhaps it was guilt over running into my recent ex while standing next to my current…something. “Umm…no. We were just heading down the street to grab a bite to eat. You remember Chase?”

Bryant extended his hand. “Cousin, right?”

“Second cousin,” Chase shook. “By marriage. We’re not blood related.”

Of course Bryant didn’t understand the insinuation. But I did.

“Yes,” I gave Chase the evil eye. “Second cousin Chase.”

Bryant looked like he was going to say something, but changed his mind. “Well…I’m going to hit the gym. Guess I’ll see you around?”

“Sure. Take care, Bryant.”

Surprising me, Chase didn’t question the odd exchange or my status with Bryant as we continued on to the restaurant. In fact, he was relatively quiet while we walked the block and a half.

Once we arrived at Elm Café, he asked for a table for two, then added, “Something quiet and romantic, if you have it.”

The host sat us at a table off in the corner, and Chase pulled out my chair.

“Is this table romantic enough for you?” I asked sarcastically.

He sat. “I’ll just have to tell you all the things I’d like to do to you to make up for the lack of romance in the setting.”

I swallowed my sarcastic comeback, knowing better than to challenge him. If I was truly going to keep this a platonic relationship, it was best to limit the visuals. I was pretty good at imagining what I’d like him to do to me on my own. If I heard it from him—well, a girl has only so much willpower.

Luckily the waitress came over to take our drink order.

“I’ll have a Jack and Coke, and she’ll have a Peppermint Schnapps martini.”

I glared at him and spoke to the waitress. “She’ll just take a water. Thank you.”

When the waitress walked away, Chase was grinning. “What? It worked at the office Christmas party. Can’t blame me for trying.”

“I think rule number one is I’ll be staying sober if we’re alone.”

“Can’t trust yourself, huh?”

Totally. “You’re so full of yourself.”

After the waitress brought our drinks, Chase wasted no time telling me what had been on his mind the last few days.

“So sleeping with me is off the table, but what about sharing a meal occasionally?”

“You mean like dating?”

“No. You said dating was off the table, too.”

“So what would be the difference between sharing a meal and dating, then?”

“You wouldn’t come home with me after the meal.”

I laughed. “You say that as if all of your dates end up going home with you.”

He gave me a look that didn’t need to be accompanied by words.

Of course they all do. What am I thinking?