Page 17 of Off Her Game
She released him as if she’d been stung and glanced around. “What the hell are we doing? Us pretending to date is a real dumbass idea.”
“Pretend. This is pretend.”Keep saying it.Not that it sunk in. He took two steps away from her. His heart pounded against his sternum. His dick pressed against his zipper so hard it’d probably have metal tracks permanently imprinted onto it.
She stared at his mouth. Was he supposed to go in for another kiss? If he did, and she hadn’t intended it to go down that path, then he’d be an asshole. After years of misreading social cues he’d conditioned himself to wait, to evaluate, and to remain inactive until someone else indicated the right way to behave. He held his breath, more than hoping she wanted to kiss again. He waited for her to say something, anything. To move. To breathe. To give him some sort of signal.
Any signal.
“We have a table waiting on us,” she prompted.
Each of his breaths echoed loudly between his ears. Was she saying she wanted to exit or stay in here? She didn’t seem to be moving to leave.
Just as he swayed toward her his phone dinged with an incoming message. What usually came across as a soft tone sounded like an alarm in the small room. They both jumped.
He viewed the notification their table was ready on his cell phone. “Table’s ready. Second message.”
“Let’s get out of here. I don’t know what you think might be going to happen, but…” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. Let’s forget about all this.” She smoothed her dress.
You started it.“How many tattoos do you have?”
“Five. All dragons.” She blinked up at him, wide-eyed and vulnerable. “How about you?”
“Back. Bit on my arms.” He fingered a roll of toilet paper. “Why dragons? I mean, a gamer girl should have sexy tattoos, but dragons?”
Her eyes narrowed. “A gamergirlis expected to have tattoos? Why? Because it helps me seem tougher? Edgier? Maybe more butch and therefore not a threat to your idea of femininity?”
“That’s not what I said.” Damn it, he’d stuck his foot in his mouth, as usual.
“Sure as hell sounded like it. I like ink. It hasn’t got anything to do with gaming.” She waved her hand. “Forget it. This whole night is a study in insanity.”
He reached for the doorknob. “Thank God this isn’t for real. I suck as a date. I can’t figure out what’s going on and I always say some something asinine like the tattoo thing. Let’s go get our table and get this over with.” He yanked open the door and held it for her.
“Look, I’m sorry.” She paused outside the door to glance up at him. “I’m used to a lot of shit coming my way from gamers. Makes me assume the worst.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re apologizing for all the other gamers who toss shit at me or are you apologizing for yourself?” A small smile tugged her lips upward.
“Just take it as an overall for everything. Are you okay? Like really okay? I mean, are they threatening you or anything? Have they hurt you?”
She poked him in the chest. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“That whole nice-guy thing. Going from bad boy to possible asshole to nice guy… You’re officially driving me nuts.”
“In a good way?”You did not just say that.“Sorry. Didn’t mean to take it there.”
“It’s…” She stepped back, putting a few feet between them. “You’re complicated. I’ll handle my end of this arrangement. You handle yours.”
“You’ll let me know if you get threatened or in trouble, right? More trouble than you’re already in?”
“What’ll you do? Charge in with the FBI or the police? Sweep me away in your limo to your penthouse?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t formulated a plan yet, but I’m working on it. I don’t like the thought of someone hurting you.”
A genuine smile lit up her face. “You’re the real deal, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“A genuine nice guy.”
He put a hand over his heart. “The kiss of death. I’ve earned thenice guylabel before we even finish our first date. There’s no hope for me now.”
She put a hand on his arm and laughed a glorious freeing sound that made him smile.
“Come on, Mr. Nice Guy, let’s do this.”
