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I snort. Maybe it’s the alcohol in my system, but I say, “I don’t know if I enjoy the idea of my first date being in my place of work.”

It seems that my snark only comes out to play when Xander and alcohol are involved.

“We’ll do a redo,” he rushes out.

I raise my brow at him, taking another sip of my drink. “Who said I’d let you take me out?”

“I’ll drag you out myself if I have to.” His face is straight as he says it, and I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“Is that so?”

“You don’t know the lengths I’d go to have you around me, Camila.” He leans in closer, running his hand down the side of my face and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

My chewing slows, suddenly captured by his gaze. I swallow.

I’m overthinking. This whole thing with Luke has messed with my mind so much that my brain is conjuring up ways to make Xander the bad guy.

He’s here, with clean clothes, my favourite cocktail, and a charcuterie board. And it seems like it’s almost too good to be true. But everything he’s done since I met him has been nothing but thoughtful. A little… desperate but thoughtful.

He’s a billionaire. He could have any woman he wants. Yet, here he is. Chasing me. Knowing nothing about me and where I come from. Knowing nothing about my crazy ex.

We both snack on the board in silence, and my skin tickles with the feeling of him watching me. I don’t need to look at him to know his gaze is fixed on me.

My phone’s ringtone breaks through the silence. I subtly turn towards Xander as I pull it out of my pocket, seeing that it’s Luke.

Suddenly, the call disappears, along with my signal. The message he sent me is still on the screen when I lock my phone.

“Crap. Signal's gone.”

Xander pulls his phone out to check. “Who was that?”

“Hm?”

“Calling you.”

Shit.

“Oh, just Corrine. She’s on a date tonight and asked me to cover. Hence why I was still here.” I wave my phone at him. “She probably wanted to check how I got on with closing up.”

He nods, eyeing me as if he doesn’t believe me.

“You don’t belong here.”

“Excuse me?” I recoil at his sudden statement, not sure if I heard him correctly. It sends irritation coursing through me like fire. “You don’t know anything about where I belong.”

He places his drink down and swiftly tugs my chair towards him, then grips my thighs with both of his hands to steady my balance.

“I can see the way you move. The way you are after. You don’t interact with men unless you need to. You’re constantly on high alert, as if someone you don’t want might approach you at any second. But it’s not me. No. You actively seek me out every night. You like knowing that I’m there. Watching you. And the only time you feel comfortable here is when you’re on that stage.”

My throat dries at the truth he spouts. He leans in closer now, his large hands massaging my thighs.

“You may think I don’t know you, Camila—and maybe I don’t—but I see you. I want to know you. I want to know everything there is to possibly know about you.” He gently presses his fingers into my thighs, leaning forward even more so that his lips are hovering over mine.

“But what if I don’t want that? What if you wouldn’t like what you found out?” I ask shakily.

“There’s not a thing you could tell me that would scare me away, Angel. Trust me.”

His hand leaves my thigh and grips the back of my neck, pulling my lips to his in a bruising kiss.