Page 58 of Before I Loved You

But we can’t be together. At least not right now.

Because if Greyson finds out…

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shake my head.

This was a mistake.

Agreeing to this date was a fucking mistake.

Picking up my phone to text Paul and cancel, I stop when a knock sounds at my door.

It’s too late.

Sighing, I grab my purse and jacket and reach the front door, wrapping my hand around the handle.

Everything will be fine.

It’s just one date.

After tonight, you will go back to pretending you don’t like him.

You have to.

You have no choice.

Throwing on a smile, I open the door to find…

Holy hell.

My mouth hangs wide open at the sight before me.

Paul is leaning against the doorframe, his burly arms crossed over his chest, covered in a white button-down tucked into a pair of black slacks accentuating his muscular thighs. When my eyes make their way back up to his, I find him observing me with amusement.

“I’d ask how I look, but I think I already know the answer.” His eyebrows raise as he smirks knowingly.

My cheeks heat up at being caught gawking at him like a teenage girl.

“Pshh.” I toss my hair over my shoulder, shoving my way around him. “Get over yourself. I had something in my eye.”

He grabs my forearm, spinning me into his chest. My breaths quicken from our proximity, his familiar masculine smell engulfing me, sending my hormones straight to the center of my core, pulsing madly.

His lips brush across mine gently, barely touching me. “You look unbelievably beautiful.” His hand runs down my hair before pausing and stepping away. Clearing his throat, he says, “I promised you a real date, which means no kissing until the end.” I sulk with a slight pout, making him laugh. Every part of my body is left tingling in frustration. “Come on.” He reaches his hand out for me. “We’ve got places to be, baby girl.”

* * *

“Where are we?”

I’m awestruck as I take in the small but quaint restaurant resembling a greenhouse. There’s an assortment of flowers in almost every color in the room. Vines hang from a pure glass ceiling, allowing patrons the privilege of seeing the picturesque night sky above while they eat.

“It’s called Il Fiore. They opened a few weeks ago. I was walking by one day, and when I saw it, well, I hoped you might like it, seeing that you love flowers.” His eyes glance appreciatively at my floral tattoos, and his hand reaches out, tracing the images.

The feeling is intimate, creating an instant throb in my core.

I clear my throat, clenching my thighs together. “You would be right. This place looks like the perfect backdrop to a fairy tale.” Even the tables we sit at have an acrylic top, displaying crushed flowers underneath.

“You look…” He stops before saying, “You look happy.”

I roll my lips together, thinking. “I guess that’s because I feel it.” Picking at the piece of bread before me, I say, “Thank you for tonight.”

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