Page 68 of The Blind Date

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” he groaned and took a considerably large sip from his wine before placing the glass on the coffee table. With all his attention trained on me, I felt like the smallest ant and the only woman in the world–both at the same time. “You wouldn’t have slept with me if you didn’t want to, either.”

"You're right. I guess it's just hard to admit that I actually like you."

A slow grin spread across his face. “So, you do like me?”

“That’s not the point,” I scoffed but couldn’t hold back the slow grin from taking over my entire face.

“Oh, I think that’s the whole point.” And just like that, his smug smirk was back.

“Getting back on topic, I guess I just find it difficult to process my feelings for you since all we ever do is argue. Up until that night, I thought you were rude, annoying, and obnoxious. I thought you were the most self-centred and narcissistic man I had ever come across.”

“And now?” He asked in a small voice, looking as if he was holding his breath while he awaited my answer.

“Oh, I still think all those things about you.” I laughed and took the last sip of my wine. “But all those things that I thought I used to hate about you are so much more tolerable now. And the worst thing is, I know that’s not just from sleeping with you.”

“So, you knew you liked me before that night?” The grin was back, and I couldn’t help but return it.

"That's not what I said."

"Have you never heard that there’s a thin line between love and hate?" Cedric asked, his gaze unwavering as he studied me.

“I hope you’re not suggesting that you love me.”

“Of course, not, darling,” Cedric chuckled and shook his head. “But I’ve learnt that I don’t hate you as much as I thought I did. You’re certainly not as intolerable as I kept telling myself you were.”

"I'm in the same boat," I told him, moving out from behind the kitchen counter to approach the sofa and seat myself on the arm. Instead of moving back to make space for me like I expected him to, Cedric remained where he was and looped an arm around my waist to pull me closer.

“I think it’s better if we both admit that there’s this pull between us that we can’t ignore,” Cedric murmured in a low, husky tone as he leaned forward to rest his forehead against the side of my neck.

“It’s certainly healthier that way,” I conceded.

Giving in, I reached a hand up to brush my fingers through his hair, my lips turning up in a small smile when he leaned into my touch.

“I’ve been on edge all week,” he murmured in a low, husky tone.

"I'm sorry I put you through that,” I apologised, gnawing on my bottom lip as guilt washed over me.

“I’m not,” he snorted and leaned further into my touch, his eyes fluttering shut. “If you hadn’t ignored me all week, then maybe we wouldn’t have had this conversation. At least this way, we know where we both stand.”

“We’re not serious yet, but we are testing the waters,” I reminded him, and also myself.

“Testing the waters,” he murmured, almost as if testing the words on the tip of his tongue. “I can live with that.”

“It’s not like I’m giving you much of a choice,” I chuckled, gently scraping my nails along his scalp, grinning when he leaned further into my touch for more.

“How do you suggest we celebrate?”

“Well, we can pour ourselves another glass of wine and call it an early night.” I half-hoped he would take me up on my offer despite our unofficial agreement that we were taking things slow.

“As tempting as that sounds, I was thinking of something else,” Cedric murmured, sounding surprisingly nervous for a man who was always so sure of himself.

“Like what?” I prompted him, my interest more than a little piqued.

“Like a date.”

“When?” I asked, surprised that I didn’t hate that idea as much as I thought I would.

“Whenever you want.”

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