Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“I get six weeks to date you. You better believe I’m going to want all the time you’ll give me.”
I study him as I sip my sangria, feeling the alcohol and the sweetness of the fruit play on my tongue. This date has been so easy—surprisingly easier than most dates I go on. It’s been so easy, in fact, that I forgot it was a date for a while. It just felt like catching up with a super-hot friend.
“In the back of my mind, I was worried this would be awkward,” I admit.
“Why?”
“Because this just kind of happened. It’s not like you asked me out after we met in a bar. You dared me to date you in a spur-of-the-moment segment on my podcast with thousands of people listening. It’s not like you could back out.”
“I can do anything that I want to,” he says. “But I want to be here, with you. How often does a guy like me get to date a girl like you?”
Who is he kidding? Guys like him—beautiful, delicious athletes with charm and money—date whoever they want. They’re usually supermodels and Social influencers with perfect bodies and curated homes, though. Not ordinary girls with cellulite, buttons strewn across her living room floor, and a Matilda that she doesn’t know what to do with.
“Men like you date women like me all the time,” I say, grinning.
“Impossible.” He leans forward, his eyes twinkling beneath the lights. “Because there aren’t too many girls out there like you.”
“Now you’re just telling me what you think I want to hear.”
He laughs. “Hardly. I think you want to hear something that you can use as a springboard to jump ship. Isn’t that your modus operandi?”
“It’s not like I set out to do that. I just refuse to stay in situations that waste my time. That’s smart. That’s resource management.”
He rolls his eyes. “Maybe, but the resource you’re managing isn’t your time. It’s your emotions. You pick guys who treat you like shit or have some other fatal flaw so that you have an out.”
“Not true. I just have a type that’s unfortunate for me. At least I’m smart enough to acknowledge that and not marry one of them and be miserable for the rest of my life.”
Jackie carries a tray to our table and places tiny plates between us. The presentation is as incredible as the restaurant itself. Each dish looks as though a chef crafted it especially for us. Once we’re set with silverware, she tops off my sangria and sets Drake up with another beer, then Jackie leaves us to it.
My stomach rumbles from the delicious aroma of the food.
“This looks and smells divine,” I say, trying to decide which plate to tuck into first. “Look at the beets. That color is magical.”
“Try one of these.” He lifts a bacon-wrapped stuffed date with a little toothpick. “This is my favorite thing on the menu.”
I start to reach for it but quickly assess that there’s no way for me to take it from him with my fingers. A grin twitches against my lips as I lean forward. “This isn’t what I thought you’d be putting in my mouth tonight.”
His eyes blaze—the usual oceanic blues shifting into a raging storm as he inserts the date between my lips.
“Oh,” I moan, my lashes fluttering closed. The savoriness of the bacon mixed with the bite of blue cheese harmonized with the buttery mouthfeel of the date. “I could eat these for the rest of my life.”
“They’re good, huh?”
I sigh, licking my lips and opening my eyes. “You should never use good to describe what I just tasted. It’s incredible.”
We make our way through our dishes, sharing with each other and trading notes. Drake prefers things with a richness, while I gravitate to the spicier options. It’s fun noting where our tastes crossover. When Jackie returns, we’re quick to order another round of things to try.
The restaurant quiets, nearly half of it empty, and the sky through the windows is dark. A slow, sweet buzz hums through me with every sip of my sangria, and Drake’s easy, just-right smile from across the table heats my core.
So far, tonight has been fabulous. Drake has surprised me in so many ways. He’s an interesting person and much deeper and more thoughtful than I expected. Surprisingly humble for being such a “thing” in the sports world. As I look back on the past few hours, it stands out to me how he asks questions and seems to not just know the answer but to know the why behind them. No one ever does that. And on the rare occasion someone does, it isn’t sincere.
But Drake? His intentions truly feel genuine.
I can’t think of a dinner date that I’ve enjoyed more. Not one comes to mind—not even close. That thought makes me smile.