Page 23 of Playing with the Boss

Suck on that, bitch.

We walk in silence to the restaurant, sharing nothing more than a few awkward glances at one another. It also doesn’t escape my notice the attention Mason draws from the group of women we queue behind while we wait to be seated. With every second that passes, every not-so-casual glance our way, or turned body during conversation to face him, I grow hotter under the collar.

“Everything alright?” Mason asks, tugging on my arm a little.

I pull away, choosing to cross my arms over myself instead of continuing to hang off him like some desperado. “Fine.”

“Doesn’t seem that way.” He stares straight ahead, clearly agitated by the wait, and settles a hand around the back of my neck.

Goosebumps erupt in a wave of wicked promise. Damn, this man is slick. No wonder I caved in so easily the first night we met.

“Should I have booked, do you think?” He frowns as the group of women are ushered to a cramped setup in the far corner.

The place is packed. I honestly can’t find a spare table in sight. Makes me wonder if the bitch behind the hotel front desk were doing her best to sabotage his date, hoping the night would then go in her favor.

Settle it down, Lisa. When the hell did I become so catty? So possessive.

“I’m totally okay with eating somewhere else.”

His hand flexes on my nape. “I can’t be fucked trawling the city for a table.”

“Well, my feet can’t be assed standing for half an hour while we wait, either.” I laugh awkwardly, unsure if I’m about to meet Angry Mason from last Friday again.

He sighs heavily out his nose, his hand sliding off my neck to trace a path down my spine to the swell of my ass. He settles his palm there for a brief moment before letting go with a gentle squeeze. “If we leave here, we’ll decide takeout is fine. And then next thing you know it’ll be ‘Let’s not go to the movies. Let’s just head back to the hotel’,” he says in a mocking tone. “And before you know it the whole date idea is fucked and you’re unimpressed, and I’m pissed off—”

“Mason.”

He snaps his head around, regarding me with wide eyes as though I startled him out of a spiral he never realized he’d entered.

“It’s okay.” I offer a soft smile. “All I wanted was a night out with you, that’s all. I really don’t care where we are or what we do.”

His brow twitches into a frown. “Are you sure?”

“Do I look like a girl who needs to be wowed with expensive dining to be impressed?” I thought he’d realized that when he suggested dinner and a movie. Maybe not.

Mason’s face softens, the most gorgeous smile gracing his lips. “Is it bad if I say no, you don’t?”

I chuckle while shaking my head gently. “Not at all.”

“Thank you for waiting,” the Maître D’ offers. “I must apologize, but there is a short wait for a table tonight.”

Mason swallows thickly, appearing to take a moment to compose himself as his shoulders soften and he draws a deep breath before answering. “Thank you, but we’ll make arrangements elsewhere.”

“Are you sure?” the Maître D’ presses. “You can have a drink at the bar while you wait.”

“No.” I rest a hand on Mason’s arm. “Honestly, it’s fine. Thank you.”

I turn and head for the door, praying like hell he follows me out. To my relief, Mason steps onto the sidewalk shortly after I do and expels a loaded breath.

“You don’t like things not going your way, do you?” I muse.

“Obvious?”

“Just a little.”

My jest cracks his mood, pulling another dashing smile from him before he offers his arm again. “Shall we?”

I take ahold of him. “Shall we what?”

“Get the fuck out of here and grab a hot dog from that cart we passed earlier?”

I laugh as we start back toward the hotel. “Sounds perfect to me.”

Maybe he does get me after all.

---