Page 75 of Date with a Devil
“Dane.” She was at a loss for words. “We don’t even know each other.”
“No, but we’d both be starting over in a new city, like you said, so we’d have plenty of time to get to know each other. We’d have each other.”
“Haveeach other? We don’t even know if welikeeach other yet, Dane.”
“I like you …” he said, his voice trailing off.
“You do? Are you sure?” she asked. “Because I don’t know if I like you just yet.”
He gave a short, possibly hurt, nod of his head. “I see.”
“I’m sorry.” She felt awful. She put her hand against his bristled cheek. “Obviously, I’m attracted to you. But we’re such different people, Dane.The fact that you’d eventhinkto ask me to move with you proves it—you’re so rich, you can afford to take a crazy risk like that. If it goes wrong, you can just pay to clean up the problem and move on. But what about me? I’m not rich! I don’t have anything. If I make a bad decision and fuck my life up, I end up paying for it.”
He wrapped his hands around the steering wheel and stared out the windshield.
“Yeah, hey, you don’t have to explain. I get it.” His voice had changed—gone was the note of boyish hope and excitement. In its place was an antiseptic coolness.
Their sweet goodbye had soured. Not knowing what else to do, Austen pushed the passenger door open again.
“Okay, well, uh, remember to text me that recipe?” she stammered.
“Yeah. Sure,” he said.
She knew he wouldn’t.
She set her feet on the pavement outside.
“Okay, so … bye?” she muttered.
“Bye,” he said.
She shut the door and watched as Dane’s sporty coupe pulled away.
The womanizing hockey player had actually let his walls down—toherof all people—and she’d rejected him. She could only imagine how much crueler and colder he’d be to all the women he met in the future as a result.
But she couldn’t blame herself—she’d only done the reasonable, responsible thing!
So why did it make her feel so rotten on the inside?
She walked to the restaurant with an emptiness in her soul.
Chapter 30
Austen
The hostess led Austen to a booth at the back of the restaurant, where Thayer sat waiting.
“Austen! Hi,” he said, standing to greet her. He wore a light blue Oxford, which was tucked into his blue jeans, and white sneakers.
“Hi, Thayer.”
She slid into the booth opposite her boss. She felt relieved to see Thayer’s trusty messenger bag sitting in the booth at his side—it meant he’d brought work with him to dinner. The less personal and more business-related this dinner was, the better.
Austen noticed the orange-colored drink sitting in front of her. Cream or milk had been poured over the ice cubes.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“I ordered it for you. It’s a Thai iced tea. It’s pretty much my favorite drink.”
