Page 46 of Wild Catch
Her hair is something else, a voluminous mass of light brown ringlets that frame her face. She twists her lips as she reads the options and they’re surprisingly full—her lips, not the options. But what snags my attention is her button nose.
I can see myself booping it.
I tuck both of my hands under my thighs just in case.
“What’s your favorite dish?” she asks with a soft, distracted voice.
“The bulgogi BBQ. It’s marinated beef.”
“That sounds great.” She slams the menu closed and lifts her head. “And also something with alcohol.”
I tilt my head. “They only have beer and soju.”
“What’s soju?”
“Uh, it’s liquor. Mostly from rice.”
She nods. “Then I’ll try that.”
Far be it from me to tell her what she should or shouldn’t drink.
The waitress returns and I end up placing the two orders of bulgogi, plus water for me and soju for Rose. She waits for me to explain how soju is supposed to be drank—including how I’m the one who should pour it for her—and then tosses two shots straight.
“Whoa, whoa.”
“It’s okay, I need it for this conversation.” Her entire face is still scrunched up, the second shot hitting her harder than the first one. “This is unexpectedly strong.”
“It’ll get you shitfaced if you’re not careful.” I fold my arms and lean back against the booth. “What in the actual hell is it that you want to say that you need to get drunk for?”
She exhales a soju-smelling breath, fills her lungs again, and looks up at me. “Logan Kim?”
“Yes?” I drag out the word.
And then she drops a bomb on me. “Would you date me?”
CHAPTER17
ROSE
Soju is more powerful than I thought. What I just said doesn’t click until I watch Logan’s mouth drop open and out pours all the water he had just drank.
I’m the one who starts choking.
Meanwhile, he calmly looks down at the massive water splotch down his purple and yellow Orlando Wild shirt, as well as his pants. Dude just gave himself a shower from the shock.
In contrast, I’m about to hack up a lung. He slides his water glass my way and I take it, chugging until my throat opens up and I can kind of breathe again.
“I d-didn’t—it?—”
“Breathe first,” he mutters, now also sliding a stack of napkins toward me.
It takes a handful to clean my face, and another handful to blot out the sweat now trickling from the sheer embarrassment. I clear my throat several times and glue my attention to the wall.
“I don’t mean for real. I don’t actually have any interest in you,” I begin to explain.
“Thanks, that’s not confusing at all.” Logan snorts.
I cave and turn back to meet his eyes. There’s more amusement there than offense, and I get it. How would someone like me hurt his self esteem in any way? He’s dated gorgeous professional models, for goodness’s sake. Women throw themselves at him on a regular basis.
