Page 41 of Falling for Fury

Addison

“I’ll have the steak, rare, and put the sauce on the side. She’ll have the salad.”

Manners apparently aren’t important anymore, and also, I’m having a salad? I was actually looking at the seafood linguini, but I guess that decision has been made for me.

Eric looked nice in his picture, seemed to be charming in his messages on SoulSwipe, but two minutes into this date, and I’m ready to bail. I was looking forward to dinner, so I had decided I would eat and flee. Now that he has ordered me a fucking salad, well, I don’t know if I can wait for the food to come. Secretly, I can’t wait to tell Rosie, ‘I told you so.’ I agreed to this date because of her, and I’m quickly regretting that decision. I didn’t think casual sex would be so hard to do. A population of nearly 8.5 million in this city, and not a single bachelor who is decent?

“So, Addison, tell me about yourself.” His smile is condescending, and I wish I could throw my glass of water on him.

“Oh, um… well, I’m in Law School, and I work—”

“Yes, I saw your profile, but tell me about you. You know, like what makes you special. Sell yourself to me.” Gross.

His smirk picks up at the edges as he leans back casually in his chair sipping on his wine, and I fight the urge to physically cringe. This arrogant motherfucker. If only Rosie were here, I wouldn’t need to say anything. She’d promptly apologize to me for making me agree to this atrocious date, then she’d flip a table on this guy.

“If she needs to give you selling points, then you don’t deserve to be on this date.” My back stiffens at the intrusion, but a warm buzzing coats my skin as that rich caramel voice approaches from behind me. I can’t believe this, of all places.

“Okay, guy. You’re interrupting my date.” Eric doesn’t even make eye contact with Noah. He just picks up and looks at the wine list.

“I know exactly what I’m doing. I think you’re done here.” Noah pulls the drink list from Eric’s grip and slaps it on the table, which causes Eric to finally meet his eyeline. I see the gulp he swallows as he assesses the human giant towering over him. Probably working out his chances of winning should they need to test their masculinity and throw hands.

Noah stalks closer to the side of Eric’s chair, his posture stiff and face pulled into a scowl, the kind I’ve never seen on him.

“Excuse me? Do you know who I am?” Eric Matherson, or the Sales Manager for Greyson Property, number one putter on the green, and a beast in the sack—according to his dating profile. “Anyone who puts that on their profile has BDE. You don’t claim to be good that publicly unless you are,” Rosie had explained, except I think she might be eating her words later. At least one of us would be eating. This is why you don’t select dates based on looks and a guess as to whether they will measure up to the ghosts of orgasms past.

“A guy about to walk out of this restaurant.”

“Noah, what are you doing?” I whisper-shout to the imposing Greek god standing beside our table. That spring scent, deliciously intertwined with his cologne, threatens to make me forget I’m mad at him and trying to move on from him right now. He’s dressed casually, a simple sweater and pants that fit snugly against the muscles of his legs, that backwards cap ruining my ability to pretend he isn’t attractive. The outfit is so at odds with the upper-class vibes of the restaurant, but patrons don’t seem to mind. No, because the other women in this venue seem to be admiring him all the same.

“Saving you from a miserable night.” He levels me with stern eyes, does a quick once over on my body, before turning away with a half-smile that could drop my panties in a flash. God damn hormones.

“Look, I don’t know what your deal is, but you need to go. We were just getting to the good part.” Beast-in-the-sack levels me with a wink that makes me lose my appetite, and unfortunately, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t force this on myself, I just know the sex wouldn’t be worth it.

“Actually, I think I should go. Early morning and all.” I throw the napkin to the table and Eric stands. Noah moves to my side, not-so-subtly placing himself between me and Eric, satisfaction plastered to his face.

“Wipe that stupid look off your face. I was going to leave, anyway,” I whisper for just Noah’s ears, and his smile turns to a frown.

“Did you honestly think you’d find what you were looking for in this guy?” he taunts me, that deep voice making all kinds of promises he has no business making. He ditches me, goes radio silent after that little moment we had, and then, what? Is pissed I’m dating. Absolutely not.

“It certainly wasn’t with you,” I hiss at him as his anger visibly increases. “Besides, what I’m looking for is none of your business. What are you even doing here?”

“Saving you. Like I just said.” His words clipped and a little bit of fury makes its way up my spine.

“So you’re following me now?”

“Sorry, am I interrupting here?” Eric clears his throat. I honestly completely forgot he was here. This is unsurprising, as Noah’s presence apparently makes me lose my mind. See also: lapse of judgement in Maplewood.

“Actually, yes—”

“No, sorry. He was just leaving. So was I,” I say, interrupting Noah’s sentence.

“If anyone should be apologizing, it’s him,” Noah grumbles as he pulls my chair out enough for me to step away from the table. I make to grab my bag, but he does it for me, placing it on my shoulder. “I can’t believe that this is where he brought you. A first date. Like this is worthy.” I don’t know if he realizes I can hear the words he is saying, his face is pulled into a scowl and he sends daggers across the table to Eric, who has now pushed his chair in and is looking at us with a mixture of confusion and disgust.

I’m not sure what Noah is so concerned about. The place was actually nice. Despite the over-inflated sense of self that Eric has, he picked a modest, if not elegant, Italian restaurant. Relatively reasonable prices and a sophisticated interior design that sets a mood, each table having enough space to have a sense of privacy. I make a mental note to come back here soon so I can actually enjoy it.

Eager to leave this testosterone pissing contest Noah and Eric seem to be stuck in, I turn and head straight for the exit. I make it to the pay counter and Noah is hot on my heels, calling my name, and I continue to ignore him. Before I have a chance to pull my purse from my bag, Noah hands over his card to the waitress.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

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