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“This is what people in relationships do, Princess. They get to know each other.” I’m going out of my fucking mind, dying to know what it is that makes her act the way she does but I have no intention of asking that tonight. That’s something we’ll have to ease into. But there are so many other things I’ve wanted to ask since the moment I met her. She sighs, thinking it over for a moment before she nods.

“Okay, I’ll play along but I still reserve the right to veto any question I don’t feel like answering.”

I nod, hating the nerves lacing her voice. She should know by now that I would never intentionally do anything to upset her. “Sounds fair.”

The waitress stops at the table with our drinks and she sets them down before turning her attention to me. “Are you ready to order?”

“Yes, we are,” Carly snaps and I bite down on my fist to stop myself from laughing. Yeah, it’s decided. I definitely love that she’s a little jealous. The waitress turns to look at Carly.

“What can I get for you, ma’am?”

“I’ll take the baked ziti.”

It doesn’t slip my notice that she forgoes the “please” this time and I wish we were closer, so I could run my hand up her thigh to distract her from her anger. The waitress turns back to me and smiles.

“And for you?”

“The burger, please.”

She writes it down and looks like she’s going to say something else before she glances at Carly and decides better of it. As she scurries off, I chuckle.

“You’re jealous,” I accuse and she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“So, what if I am? You’re here with me and she’s practically jumping into your lap every time she stops by the table. It’s fucking trashy.”

I can’t help but laugh as I reach across the table and grab her hand. “I kinda like you jealous but you’ve got nothing to worry about, baby. I couldn’t even tell you what she looks like ‘cause I’m too busy watching you.”

“Those lines don’t work on me,” she shoots back at me, but her gaze softens and I laugh again.

“Whatever you say, Princess.”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t you have questions to ask me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Well, get to it then.” She looks so damn beautiful all pissed off and I remember the first time I showed up at her apartment to ask her out. She was so stubborn and I love the fire in her eyes whenever she argues with me. God, I love her attitude. It’s one of the biggest things that attracted me to her because there’s no way in hell I could be with someone who didn’t put me in my place every once in a while.

“What’s your first question?” she asks, softer this time. Thinking over all the questions I’ve wanted to ask her since the moment we met, I decide to start with something easy.

“When was the last time you went on a real date like this?”

Her shoulders tense again and she drops her gaze to the floor. Okay, maybe that’s not such a safe question. “Twelve years ago.”

I blink. Jesus… she was only… “When you were sixteen?”

“Yes. And I don’t want to answer any more questions about that.” She refuses to meet my gaze and her fist is clenched on the table, her knuckles turning white. Fuck, what the hell happened to my gorgeous girl?

“Okay, I won’t ask you anything else about that.”

The relief on her face kills me. Everyday it’s a struggle to not push her to tell me about her past, to not pry the information out of her. I know something happened to her, something so bad that it broke a part of her and I would do anything to fix it if I could.

“Thank you. What’s another question?”

I think over my list again, choosing a safer topic. Or, at least, what I hope is a safer topic. “What’s the deal with your apartment?”

“Huh?”

“When I came over the first time, you looked disgusted with it but it’s seriously the nicest place I’ve ever been in so what’s the deal?”