“Grilled lobster tails,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. “And I’ve got some strip steaks. If we go to the roof early enough, we can get a grill, I’m sure. There are tables up there to eat or we can bring it back. What do you think?”
“I think that sounds like a fabulous idea.” Her eyes roamed over his attire. Fitted black T-shirt, gray athletic shorts, ankle socks on his feet. He’d kicked off his sneakers when they came in.
She did the same, leaving her barefoot since she’d only put sandals on her feet with her shorts and T-shirt.
They were staying in to eat, no reason to dress up.
She was nervous enough as it was tonight and didn’t want to be too obvious about what was in her mind.
How had they gone from friends, to enemies, to no communication for a decade, to back to friends, and now she was dying to be his lover?
They’d spent an enormous amount of time kissing when they were together. Hands moved around over clothing, but both were afraid to take the skin-to-skin contact step.
She believed wholeheartedly he was waiting for her to do it.
He might not have kissed her if she hadn’t insulted him for being so boring.
“Perfect,” he said. “Do you want a drink? I’ve got beer and wine.”
“You know what? I’ll have a beer if you’ve got one of the light ones.”
“I do,” he said. “I remember what you told me you liked.”
He was a damn good boyfriend. If he could be considered that.
Yeah, he could. If she wanted to take it to the next level, he had to be.
She didn’t sleep with men for the hell of it.
They had to mean something to her.
Matt had meant a lot of things for a long time in her life.
He was going to mean something else after tonight.
“I appreciate that. I can’t tell you the number of men I’ve been with that can barely remember how to spell or pronounce my name let alone a drink I enjoy.”
He turned from pouring her beer. “How many has it been?”
“Not that many,” she said, laughing.
She accepted the beer and took a sip of the light fruity concoction. She had to know what they all tasted like in order to let the customers know.
“Then why bring it up? I hate to think you were trying to make me jealous.”
“I don’t think you get jealous,” she said. “But I could be wrong.”
“Oh, you’re wrong. I could be very jealous if I hear too many stories about the men you’ve been with. Unless of course they are all dicks.”
“There were enough of them,” she said drily.
“Want to talk about them? We can entertain each other with funny stories of the bad dates and relationships we’ve had.”
She wasn’t so sure she wanted to, but he might, and it’s not like she could hide things forever.
She had little to hide. It was more about the fact that all those relationships shaped her into what she wanted out of them now.
“We can for a bit. I bet there are women out there talking about you being the bad one on the date.” She closed one eye at him when he’d done it to her. Whenever she mimicked his facial expressions, he’d laugh.