Page 9 of The Moment We Know

“I can go change really quick,” she offered. “It will only take me a minute.”

“Hell, no. You’re not changing anything.”

His tone was just bossy enough to make her mouth quirk. Before she could comment on it, though, he glanced uneasily over his shoulder at Mrs. Harte’s apartment door across the hall.

He turned back to Paige, his expression borderline anxious. “Now, let’s get out of here before that barracuda sees me and comes out to give me hell again.”

For a moment, she thought about not alleviating his fear because it was fun to watch, but in the end decided to take pity on him. “That ‘barracuda’ is at bingo, so you can relax.”

Not even a little embarrassed at how welcome that news was, David wrapped his hands gently around her neck and pulled her forward. “Good. We have time for this then,” he said, before bending slightly to kiss her.

His real-life lips were better than anything in a dream and Paige welcomed them eagerly. As was the case during the previous two times they’d made out, she was quickly caught up in the moment, her world narrowing to the taste of his mouth, the glide of his tongue against hers, and the feel of his trimmed beard against her chin and cheeks.

Peripherally, she was also aware of the scent of his Hugo Boss cologne, his shoulder-length hair clutched in her fingers, and the press of his growing erection against her, which let her know she wasn’t the only one enjoying the exchange. Once upon a time, this would’ve made her shrink into herself and withdraw, but not anymore. Now, it gave her a powerful rush knowing she was responsible for his arousal, filling her with a feminine pride and power like she’d never known.

It was stunning, and so very, very welcome.

When he finally pulled away, her blood was humming and her skin felt several degrees warmer. Paige slowly opened her eyes and murmured, “I needed that. Thank you.”

“I needed that, too. And you’re welcome.”

He gave Paige another quick kiss, this one soft and easy, before taking her hand. She found the gesture sweet, the familiarity of his long fingers entwined with hers making her feel both comfortable and giddy.

It was a feeling that lasted until they arrived at Bender’s.

A little stunned, she stared at the restaurant, having never planned on being here again. From the outside, the building looked benign, with nice architectural details and bright lights, but inside it was her personal ground zero, where one of the worst nights of her life had played out.

“If you really don’t want to eat here, we’ll go someplace else,” he quickly assured her, not immune to her hesitation or the unease in her bourbon-brown eyes. “But I’d like to neutralize this place. I don’t want our last memory here to be that shit-show.”

Paige figured he probably had no way of knowing that neutralizing bad memories didn’t always work. However, she could appreciate his desire to try, especially since it would benefit them both.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded; she could do this. “I’ll be fine.”

They went in and while it was still a little uncomfortable—her eyes immediately went to the spot where she’d gone down like Sonny Liston when he fought Muhammad Ali—it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be. She was able to acknowledge the bad memory of the encounter with Ashley without feeling it, then let it go. She was even able to smile at the hostess who was obviously trying to remember how she knew Paige, but thankfully never did.

She and David were taken to a semi-secluded booth where Paige found, after getting past the hostess station and into the actual restaurant, most of her anxiety dissipated. It was probably because she’d never set foot in there and therefore had no negative association with it, but she took it as a win, anyway.

After they got their drinks and ordered for one another, which was a game they’d played when married and had recently began playing again, the waitress placed a complimentary basket of freshly baked breadsticks on their table, then left.

Once they were alone again, David took a drink of his Audrey Hopburn Belgian IPA before asking Paige, “How are you doing?”

She gave him a quick smile, appreciating his concern. “I’m good, for the most part. How about you?”

“To be honest,” he said, looking rather pained, “I’m thinking it was a mistake to come here.”

“Are you serious? Why?” She honestly didn’t know why he’d be having a more difficult time here than she was. “What’s wrong?”

“This fucking song,” he muttered with disgust.

Paige blinked at his answer, which at first seemed nonsensical, until she heard “We Built This City” coming from the overhead speakers in the ceiling. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Well, I see your hatred for this song hasn’t gone away,” she couldn’t help but tease him.

“It will never go away. If anything, it only grows every time I hear it. It’s the worst song to ever be written, recorded, and put on the radio.”

Paige pondered that while reaching for a breadstick; she could only resist delicious smelling bread for so long.

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