Page 13 of 10 Ways to Accidentally Fall in Love

“Fuck,” he mutters almost to himself, stepping around some people on the sidewalk. “I’m really looking forward to that meat in my mouth.”

I huff a laugh, glancing over at him.Yep. Guileless.

When Brad and I get to the steakhouse, I hold the door for him to walk through. He shoots me a smile as he steps across the threshold. From the way he glances around curiously, I’m guessing he’s never been here before, even though it’s relatively close to his place. I discovered it myself earlier this year when I came to talk to my Uncle Johnny about accepting a job. The steak truly is top-notch and the atmosphere cozy.

Brad beams when I let my hand graze the small of his back. He seems openly affectionate, which I love. My last boyfriend, over two years ago now, didn’t like sharing physical touch in public. I honored that, of course, but I can’t deny it’d be nice to hold Brad’s hand. To maybe kiss his cheek or sit close, my arm around him as we sat on a bench or shared a meal.

I’m nearly lost in the fantasy when the hostess arrives. I give her my name, and she leads us to a table near the back corner of the restaurant. I pull out Brad’s chair before taking my own.

He makes a quiet sound of approval. “This place isnice. If you’d told me it was so fancy, I would’ve dressed up.”

“You look great,” I tell him truthfully. “I like casual over fancy, anyway.”

“Right?” he says, eyes wide. “Give me a pair of sweats and a couch any day, and I’m golden.”

I nearly groan at the visual. Brad. Brad stretched out on a couch. Brad in a pair of gray sweats on said couch.

“That’s the life,” I agree weakly, looking over the menu. “Do you, uh, want something to drink?”

He hums. “Unless they have espresso, I think I’ll stick with water. I’m not a big drinker.”

“I don’t think they have espresso here,” I say, skimming the dessert section, “but we can always stop somewhere after if you want.”

“Yeah? Cool. Oh, hello.”

Brad sits back as our waiter arrives, the man setting down a candle between us. He lights it as he introduces himself. “Good evening. I’m Basil, your server for the night. Can I start you gentleman off with anything to drink?”

“Do you have espresso?” I check.

“We do not,” Basil says.

“Then two waters, please. And a few more minutes with the menu?”

He nods before stepping back. I don’t miss the upward bounce of his eyebrows as he tips his head discreetly in Brad’s direction, though.

Pretty sure Basil and I are both in agreement that my date is hot as fuck.

As Basil walks off, Brad shakes his head. “So fancy,” he mutters, a little smile on his face as he looks from the candle to the food options.

“Espresso this late wouldn’t keep you up?” I ask, curious.

“Nah,” he says with another shake of his head. “I’m a natural night owl. If I’m in bed before one, it’s because I have company.Ooh, look, they have surf and turf. You’re not allergic to shrimp, are you?”

“No,” I say, my swallow more than a little rough. “Just almonds.”

“Good. Shit, let me know if you wanna go halfsies on anything. It all looks amazing.”

Good Lord, he’s perfect.

We do end up getting the surf and turf. Plus the swordfish steak. And based on Brad’s happy moans, I’m fairly positive I’m getting a pretty good preview into what those pre-one-o’clock bedtime activities sound like.

“Good?” I ask hoarsely.

He nods, chewing, his green eyes closing for a moment before they open again. “Good pick, Joey-roo. This place is awesome.Although you might have to tuck me into bed later. It’s the least you can do after stuffing me so thoroughly, if you know what I mean.”

He winks, and I cough, nearly spitting out my water.

Brad’s face falls in sympathy. “Dude. Still sick?”

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