Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
The only thing I am sure of is that it won’t be the same between us ever again.
But in saying that . . . I do think it’s worth the risk.
At least, I hope it is.
Perspiration beads on my top lip, and I reach in and turn on the tap. Time for a second cold shower.
The Uber pulls up outside of Little Italy, and I close my eyes.
This is it.
“Thank you.” I smile.
“Have a good night.” The driver nods.
“You too.” I get out of the car, and with shaky feet, I walk into the restaurant.
It’s dark and moody, and candles flicker on every table. There is someone being checked in in front of me.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump goes my heart.
I look around and see Blake stand and wave. He’s by a table at the back, and he’s wearing my favorite blue jeans.
I nervously make my way over. He stands and watches me as he waits, and . . . oh man.
What was I thinking?
“Hello.” I smile.
“Hi.” He leans down and kisses my cheek. The familiar heavenly scent of his aftershave tickles my senses. “You look lovely.” He smiles.
“Thanks.”
He pulls my chair out, and I sit down.
Adrenaline is screaming through my body, and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous.
He sits down opposite me and smiles softly as his eyes hold mine. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I whisper.
“Are you okay?” he asks, as if sensing my inner turmoil.
“I’m nervous.”
He reaches over and takes my hand in his. “Me too.” He lifts it and kisses my fingertips, and goose bumps scatter up my arms as I stare at him.
“We should drink . . . alcohol,” I stammer.
He laughs out loud, and it’s a beautiful, calming sound. “All of it.”
“I actually can’t believe we’re doing this,” I whisper.
“I can.” In slow motion, he lifts my hand and kisses my fingertips again. This time, I feel it all the way to my toes. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
“You have?” I frown.
He nods.
“That’s not creepy at all.” I smirk.
He smiles bashfully as he rearranges the napkin on his lap. “Maybe a little.”
“So . . .” I shrug as I look around. “What happens now?”
“You drink red wine while I try my hardest to charm you.”
“What if I’m already charmed?”
“It’s not nearly enough.” His eyes search mine, and I smile over at the beautiful man opposite me. He’s just as nervous as I am.
A waitress arrives with a bottle of red, and she begins to uncork it.
“Thank you.” He smiles.
She fills our glasses and brings out her notepad. “Are you ready to order?”
“I’ll have the beef ragù,” I tell her.
Blake smiles softly over at me as the air crackles between us.
“I’ll have the fettucine,” he replies, his eyes not leaving mine. “Thank you.”
The waitress disappears, and Blake reaches around and grabs the side of my chair and pulls it toward him so that we are sitting together. “That’s better.” His eyes hold mine, and there’s an intensity to them that I haven’t seen before.
“Is this where I get to experience the Blake Grayson A-game date?” I ask.
“No.” He rolls his lips, as if unsure what to say next, and an awkward silence falls between us.
“Can I?”
“What do you mean?”
“I think the best way to not let nerves get the better of us is to . . .” I shrug. “Pretend that we don’t know each other.”
He smirks over at me.
“Maybe we could pretend that we just met on Bumble?”
“You know we were matched last weekend,” he replies.
“What?” I frown. “How do you know?”
“Because I swiped on you.”
“You did?”
“Uh-huh.” He smiles. “Don’t pretend you didn’t see it.”
“I honestly didn’t. I haven’t been on the app at all.”
“Swipe on me.” He sips his wine, and he has that mischief in his eyes that he gets.
“What, now?” I smile.
“Why not?” He shrugs.
“Okay.” I open the app and go through my matches.
“How many do you have?” He frowns as he looks down at my phone. “Did everyone on the app swipe on you?”
I shrug. “I’m a woman, and men are pretty easy to . . .” I widen my eyes. “Hook.”
I scroll and scroll. “This is me,” he says.
“Which one?”
“Go back.”
I scroll back up, and there’s a picture taken from behind of a man with a surfboard.
“This isn’t you.” I frown.
“Well, it is. About ten years ago.” He sips his wine again. “In Spain, I think.”
“Okay.” I smile as I swipe on him. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
I read the bio.
Looking for Andie Anderson.
“Oh my god.” I put my hand to my mouth in surprise. “That is your heading?”
He chuckles and throws me a sexy wink. “Works every time.”
“You are the living end.” I laugh out loud.
“Andie Anderson is the quintessential dream girl . . . even for me.”
I laugh harder. Andie Anderson is the lead character in the movie How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.