Page 44 of Puck You Very Much
“They would only say something if they know about it, Zane. We’ll take the steps to make sure they don’t.”
Drawing a huge breath, I shifted my eyes. God, this guy was impossible.
“But I wouldn’t even know where we should go,” I said.
“How about the Colter Bay Grill? It is kind of like ‘our place,’ isn’t it?”
“Wow, you’re a regular Jimmy Fallon, aren’t you?”
“Look, we can stand here and argue about it, or we can reach some kind of agreement. How ‘bout it?”
“Jakob, if we go on a date now, there’s a chance it could lead to something else.”
“Yeah, I know it could.”
“And that doesn’t scare you?”
“Oh, it does. But the idea that I would even touch you, let alone sleep with you for no apparent reason—twice—scares me even more.”
I considered slapping Jakob across the face. God, that would feel so fucking awesome. One good turn deserved another, right? Ultimately, I understood that Jakob held the cards, and I would have to go along with what he asked if I wanted to fuck him again.
“I can’t do it,” I said. “It’s just too weird.”
“Your loss.” Zane turned and started to walk away but stopped himself. He wiggled his ass in a very subtle fashion, probably knowing I wouldn’t miss it. Then he glanced over his shoulder and peered down as if even he needed to steal a glimpse of his own backside.
That meant I should be drowning in my own lust by now.
“I can’t do it,” I said.
“That’s no problem for me. I just want to make sure you know what you’re missing out on.”
He spoke in a sing-song voice that threatened to drive me insane. And then he reached back and rubbed his ass, pretending to spread the cheeks apart for me. Worse, he kept doing it, probably thinking I would cave in.
But I would show him.
I crossed my arms, saying, “I won’t do it.”
18
JAKOB
Aaaand, just like that, Zane Hirst was going on his first real date with me. Don’t act so surprised. Guys like him talk big but go back on their words all the time. Why else would I have felt so confident that he would fold?
Get this; he showed up to my place with flowers. Not just flowers, though?—
a dozen long stem roses. Honest to God, he must’ve forgotten who he was going on a date with. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciated the gesture, thanked him, and found a vase to put them in.
We decided to keep this simple: dinner, preferably someplace away from spots people we knew were likely to show up. Zane drove. He had a nice set of wheels—not that I would have told him. We all know he would have said something dumb. Thank God he kept things fairly tame on the drive to the restaurant.
Tully’s overlooked Niagara Falls Boulevard. I’d been there once before, and I decided the sports bar-restaurant atmosphere would be perfect for us. Zane pulled into the parking lot, parked, and we headed into the building. Once inside, a hostess greetedus. Zane studied her up and down, and I honestly worried he was checking her out—and on our first date!
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” Zane asked her.
“No, sir,” she said. “I met you for the first time just now.”
“But you haven’t heard of me either, have you?”
She shook her head.
