Page 49 of Heartbreaker
John smiles. “I half expected you to say eleven.”
“You’re a cliché, John Brooks, but you haven’t officially asked me to be your girlfriend on this commercialized day of love. Unless you do that, you’ll remain in the safe zone.”
“And what if I did?” He turns me in his arms to stare straight into my eyes, his face serious. “Ask you to be my girlfriend.”
The final moments of daylight cast a warm glow on his face, and a hint of green surrounds his pupils, spilling into the blue depths. For a moment, the only sounds are the waves beneath our feet, lapping at the side of the boat, and the captain somewhere below deck whistling a happy tune to himself.
“Is this you asking?”
“No,” he says, and another smile spreads across his lips. “Not yet.”
“Not yet?”
“Not yet,” John confirms. “We do have something else to discuss. Tonight is all about risks.”
That’s an interesting way to say it.
“So, in that spirit, I’d like to play a game.”
“A game?”
“A game. There are three different levels, each one has two options, and the choice you make will determine what we do tonight. So, are you willing to play a game of risk with me?”
I look around at the scene before us. We’re on a sailboat in the middle of Tampa Bay watching the sunset with champagne, and you mean to tell me this isn’t our date? I meet his awaiting gaze, and ask, “You meanthisisn’t our date?”
John laughs, cradling the side of my neck to pull me in and kiss my forehead. “Sweetheart, this is only the appetizer.” The look in his eyes matches the fire that ignites in my core. “Are you ready?”
No.
“Yes,” I say, holding his stare.
“Level one: A or B,” he says, and my mind goes blank.Shit. What am I supposed to say? I thought he’d give me actual options, not pawns to choose from. “Don’t think about it, Savannah. Just choose.”
“I-I don’t—”
“Choose.”
“A.”
“Okay,” John says with a toothy grin. “Level two: square or circle.”
“Circle.”
“And finally, level three: red or white.”
“Red.”
John’s pace slows when we approach an exit from the Riverwalk, not far from my condo building. He uses our conjoined hands to stop my movements, pulling me into him. His right hand cradles my left against his chest, and his left arm slips around my waist. He moves us in a small sway beneath the city lights, leaning in close until our noses touch.
When he spins me out and back in, it brings us even closer, and my breath catches as his lips brush over mine for the first time all night. He doesn’t close the gap; he kisses the tip of my nose instead.
“Do you want to play one more level?” John asks.
My brow cocks. Another level? It has to be close to midnight. What else could he possibly have planned?
So far, my choices have led to: “A,” mini golf; “circle,” a visit to John’s favorite ice cream shop right outside of Tampa, because apparently he is a dessert before dinner kind of guy; and “red,” a private cooking class where we made caprese salad, fresh mushroom ravioli, and a side of broccoli rabe. When John parked outside my building after dinner, he practically jumped out of the driver’s seat to open my door before I could. I assumed the date was over, but he offered a stroll down the Riverwalk instead, and that’s how we ended up here…
Apparently, still in the middle of our game risk, but so far, the rewards have paid off.
