Page 10 of Worth the Risk

I glance down at her phone that is still playing a video from the social media app she was scrolling. It’s a man in a suit mouthing something, then a second later it turns red and he’s shirtless, the camera zooming in on his mouth as he says something else.

“What’s this?” I laugh, picking up her phone just as she tries to grab it from me.

“It’s nothing, I don’t know. It was just a video that was playing.” Her cheeks turn pink as she lunges toward me.

“Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure I tried that same line with my dad when he caught me watching porn at fifteen.” I hold the phone far enough away from her that she can’t reach it.

“It’s not—porn,” she half whispers.

“How many times did you watch it?” I crook my eyebrow at her, the little heart on the screen red. “Oh, and look at that, you even liked it? Is that what that little red heart means right here?”

“Give it back,” she grits the words out.

“What does Noah think about your internet boyfriends? Jealous?” I don’t know why I bring that asshole up, maybe to gether to admit for once that she doesn’t care what he thinks, but it’s useless.

“Stop being immature and go back to your date because I’m pretty sure she just sat down.”

When I turn to look back at my table, she snatches the phone from my hand. Mia takes a seat back at our table just as the bartender places the glasses down in front of me. I turn back to Taylor, her eyes taking in Mia. For a brief second, I’m confident she sees it. Her eyes flick back to mine, then back to Mia, and I’m sure she’s going to say something about the resemblance to her but she doesn’t.

“Good night, Austin,” she says, grabbing her bag of food and sliding off the barstool. “Go be a gentleman and don’t screw it up.” She points her finger at me with a little grin peeking through her serious expression. Our eyes stay locked for a few seconds longer than normal and just when I think there’s something more behind her gaze, something only meant for me, she turns on her heel and walks away.

I let my eyes follow her out of the restaurant, the urge to chase after her and show her exactly just how much of a gentleman I can be. Maybe it would wake her up and make her see the kind of man she actually deserves to be with.

Not a fucking dickbag asshole like Noah.

I pick up the glasses of wine and make my way back over to our table. But before I can even place them, Mia looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes, clear evidence that she’s been crying.

“I don’t think I’m over my ex. I’m so sorry.” She reaches for her napkin and dabs at the corner of each eye. “I shouldn’t have brought him up. I shouldn’t have agreed to this date. I shouldn’t be wasting your time.”

I reach for my glass, taking several long sips until the entire thing is drained, wishing it was something harder.

“No need to apologize,” I say, placing the glass back on the table and making eye contact with the waiter to let him know we’re ready for the check. “I’m pretty confident I shouldn’t have asked you out either.”

“Oh?” Her brows shoot upward. “Still hung up on an ex too?” she says sympathetically.

“Nah.” I shake my head, the wine making my brain feel like it’s swimming almost instantly. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with my business partner.”

For the first time in five years, I’ve said the words out loud that I’ve known since the second I met her.

“What’s stopping you from telling her?”

My finger taps rhythmically against the top of the table, matching the thud of my heart against my ribs when I think about the answer. My stomach churns, picturing her in his arms tonight. Finally, I look up at Mia.

“She’s in love with someone else.”

CHAPTER 5

Taylor

Ishove another bite of filet into my mouth, chewing as little as possible before choking it down. Not even the buttery, melt in your mouth tenderness of a seventy-dollar steak from Gibson’s can take my mind off of the way Austin looked tonight on his date.

“Ugh.” I push my half-eaten plate away and take a long sip of my wine, savoring the dry, deep flavors. “Just you and me this weekend,” I say, grabbing the rest of the bottle and sliding off my barstool to lumber over to my couch.

I reach for my phone and curl into the corner, the TV on low in the background. I open the app, the same one I’ve been burying myself in these last several months since the breakup, and begin to scroll. My For You page is flooded with the usual: funny cat videos and restaurant recommendations around the city, but more and more, it’s thirst traps from guys pretending to be characters from books I’ve read.

A clear sign that my algorithm is starting to change and honestly, I’m not mad about it. At least I can safely fantasize about random hot guys on the internet instead of my business partner and friend that I’ve been lusting after for the last fiveyears. The guilt of a few of those fantasies slipping through the cracks of my brain while I was still with Noah continue to eat at me.

I giggle to myself, sinking deeper into the couch as I click on the profile for one of the guys. He’s handsome, certainly so, the boy next door type with a charming grin and two perfectly placed dimples. He makes direct eye contact with the camera, grinding his hips as his abs flex and he bites his bottom lip. I actually blush watching it, a mix of secondhand embarrassment at the fact he filmed this alone and posted it but also the fact I can’t stop watching him.

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