Page 97 of The Main Event

I took her to Boston Sail Loft for dinner after. She’d mentioned she loved seafood—although, oddly, wasn’t a big fan of fish—and I wanted something that wasn’t overbearing but still boasted amazing food.

Her skin glowed as she perused the drink menu. “I love drinks with fun names,” she said. “I’m going to get the Spinnaker Squeeze.”

I wanted to squeeze her. Since we were still a good two hours away from that being an option, I forced myself to focus on the menu. I would need sustenance for what I had planned. The whole day had been like foreplay.

“I’ll have the Ghost Spicy Margarita,” I said to the server. “Also, can we have steamed mussels and fried clams as appetizers?”

“Sure.” The server smiled as she glanced between us. “You guys are adorable by the way. No groping in the restaurant, though.”

Daisy’s mouth fell open at the admonishment. “I can’t believe she would think we’re going to grope.”

Since I’d been imagining groping her only seconds before, all I could manage was a shrug. “Go big for food. Don’t do that chick thing where you try to order the cheapest thing on the menu. You’re going to need fuel for tonight.” I waggled my eyebrows.

She laughed and went back to the menu. A simple day of moving between two pubs and having someone drive us through the city so I could point things out to her had turned into the best day of my life. How had that even happened?

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” She linked her fingers and cracked her knuckles in exaggerated fashion. “Prepare to be amazed.”

When the server returned, I ordered Portofino, along with some chowder. I was a big fan of the chowder here. Daisy studied the menu so hard I was afraid her eyes might pop out of her head.

“I’m torn between the lobster and the lobster mac and cheese.” She chewed on her lip as she debated.

“Get the lobster,” I said. “Get the chowder, too. We’ll get some of the lobster mac and cheese to take back with us and eat it as a midnight snack.”

Her eyes went wide. “Are you kidding? Because you can’t kid with me about food. I take eating very seriously.”

I grinned. “I’m being serious,” I promised her. “I wasn’t joking about you needing to keep up your strength.”

Dinner was just as delightful as hanging out at the pubs together. She asked me about going to school in Boston. It had been a boring affair, so there wasn’t much to tell her. Then she asked me about my friends, which turned into a discussion about how I didn’t have many true friends.

“The people in my parents’ world are fake,” I explained as I signed the credit card receipt. “That means all the friends I made at school were fake too.”

“All of them?” She looked inexplicably sad as she took the takeout bag from the table.

“I have friends,” I assured her. “I just don’t have a lot of close friends.”

“I kind of want to hold you close and stroke your hair,” she lamented. “I want to tell you everything will be okay, and I’ll be your friend.”

“You’re already my friend.” I stood and held out my hand. “You’re a little more than that, too.”

“Am I your best friend?” She was joking, but the truth was, at this point in time, I didn’t want to spend time with anybody but her. Our relationship was more than sex. It was more than friendship. It was everything wrapped in a neat little bow … and I liked it.

“If I say yes, will you think I’m pathetic?”

There was no hesitation before she answered. “Yes.”

“Then, of course, you’re not my best friend.”

Her giggle warmed me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, and I wrapped her tight at my side as we headed out. The wind was like a blast of winter rather than fall, and I pulled her tighter against me to make sure she didn’t catch a chill.

That’s when I practically ran into my mother.

She was with three friends, all dressed as if they were going to the opera later, and the surprise that registered on her face when she saw me was impossible to miss.

“Jaxson,” she said primly.

I automatically straightened. It was a reflex. “Mother.”

Next to me, Daisy went ramrod straight. All traces of mirth fled her features, and I internally cursed myself to have lingered for that extra ten minutes. If we’d left even five minutes before, Daisy wouldn’t have been subjected to whatever hell my mother was about to unleash on us.

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