Page 60 of Hearty

I hope I’m getting my point across, that she’s the one I want to be with. That I want her to stay, to not waste a second of our time together ever again. But when it comes to subtlety, maybe this is the point I’m going to be a little cautious with.

August nods. “He’s right. It’s just that sometimes, when we’re young, that isn’t always so clear.”

“It’s becoming clearer to me.” I reach across the table for her hand. “Listen, August … I want?—”

The waitress interrupts us as she puts down our iced plate of oysters, and we both thank her. Our eyes collide over the dish, and we both know I was just about to throw a gauntlet down. But I’m skittish, not sure how she’ll receive me asking her to stay or for us to be together, so I don’t continue.

“All right, let me dress one of these up for you so you can get the whole experience.” I grin at her, skating over the conversation that was just on the brink of intensity.

“Do your worst, Ashton,” she taunts me.

With a practiced hand, I add the condiments to the oyster the exact way I usually like them, then hand it to her. “Swallow it whole, no utensils.”

I watch her cheeks go red again, and the dirtiness of my words has blood stirring in my cock. She does as I say, tipping her head back to expose the long column of her throat. The way her muscles move as she swallows it … it’s not decent for this restaurant. At least not to my brain, which is working through a bunch of fantasy images of her throat doing that for a completely different reason.

By the time she puts the shell down and smirks at me, I’m panting.

“Not as bad as I thought.”

I stare at her slack-jawed, and she winks, like she knows exactly the kind of performance she just put on for me.

“Do you invite someone in after the first date?” I ask slyly.

August taps her finger on her chin, playing into the bit. “Well, not usually. But I suppose if he happens to be my roommate, I guess I have no choice.”

“I guess not.” I smirk back and realize we’re top-tier at flirting with one another.

“I’m going to use the restroom. Excuse me for a minute?” she asks. “If the waitress comes, can you just surprise me with my entree? You know what I’ll like probably more than I will.”

“Of course.” It’s the highest compliment that she’s entrusting me with the choice.

Our waitress comes, and I put in a variety of things, hoping to impress August with my picks.

More than a few minutes after she slipped away to use the bathroom, I realize it’s been a while. I wonder if she’s sick or maybe saw someone she knew? Checking my watch, the smart device tells me it’s been nearly ten minutes since she got up from the table.

Swiveling my head, I don’t see her chatting by any of the tables or up at the hostess stand. It might be weird to leave a two-person table, but whenever I see someone do that at my restaurant, I think they might dine and dash, but I have no choice. I take my napkin off my lap and go in search of August.

First, I check the surrounding hallways, and she’s nowhere to be found. I could check downstairs, but I don’t know why she would have gotten on the elevator. When I near the bathrooms, I don’t hear a peep from inside the women’s room. It takes two minutes for someone to come out, and I ask this random stranger if she saw my date in the bathroom. The woman confirms that there was no one else inside.

Hmm, where the hell did she go? August wouldn’t just leave, right? Panic and doubt lance through me because I thought we were having a great time, but maybe she didn’t agree.

An exit door catches my eye, and I wonder if she came out onto the three-sixty-view balcony for a moment. Pushing it open, I hope not, because the visibility isn’t great, and it’s pitch-black out here.

It’s a cooler night for the summer, with the wind whipping up here. Not to mention, it’s dark on this part of the rooftop balcony, the cutout of stairs leading to the decks below. It’s a beautiful spot to watch the river or the sunrise, but there aren’t any tables or lights on this corner of the roof, and it almost feels ominous.

Peering around, I don’t see anyone and am about to go back inside when I hear it.

“I told you, you had a month. It’s up, and I’m here to collect.” A menacing voice growls in the dark.

In the flash of a car light off the nearby bridge, I spot her. She’s standing against the railing while that thin tall man, the one I saw threatening her in the driveway, stands menacingly over her.

How the fuck did he find her? My stomach drops, fury and possessiveness drugging my veins.

I need to rush out there, save her from him, help her, but I need to do something else first.

My head is on a swivel once more, looking for anyone who can help us. The flash of a white button-down catches my eye, and I run over to him.

“Call the cops.” My tone is low and serious as I pull aside a waiter bustling to the kitchen.

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