Page 59 of Off Her Game
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“Did I give you a wet handshake?” Tori’s date asked.
“What?” She pulled her gaze away from the airy palatial architecture of the restaurant to focus on her date. The guy’s abstract level of communication since being seated over fifteen minutes ago put her off. Maybe his distraction had been the product of him working all day in a cubicle or the restaurant clamor surrounding them.
“I’m sitting here and all I can think is that I gave you a wet handshake when we first met.” He smoothed a hand over the impeccably styled dark hair. A hurricane probably wouldn’t ruffle the dark, shellacked shell on his head. The blast would disintegrate his body, but leave the hair-dome intact. She bit her lip against a giggle.
“Don’t worry about it.” She took a huge swallow of her chardonnay. If she hadn’t been clued in this straight-laced lawyer wasn’t her type, then the OCD nature of this conversation was a huge red flag. Talk about blind dates from hell.Job interview. Steady paycheck at an entry level coding position at a gaming company. A foot in the door. No cursing and be polite.
“I just wanted it out there in the open rather than worrying about it all night.” His delicate wine sip put her gulps to shame.
“I guess that’s good.” Another swig of wine down the gullet. Its cheap acidity burned her throat. “So, you’re a lawyer?”
“Yeah.”
“You work for a cell phone company?” She shifted, restless.
“Sure do.”
Oh. My. God. This date was going to kill her before the main course arrived. All she could think about—had thought about for the past day—was Noah. She was crap at choosing the right guys to develop feelings toward. She shouldn’t be out with anyone, not with a flayed heart. It made her vulnerable and likely to make poor life choices, whether it was drinking too much of this crap wine or doing a second date with this guy.
She asked, “So, what’s your favorite play right now?”
A broad smile broke across his face. “I’ve been stuck on level fifteen inDrone Warsfor two weeks. Any hints?”
“It’s really best if you figure that level out yourself. Gives you a huge sense of accomplishment.” She nudged the candle in the middle of the table toward him to make it more centered.
“Come on. I heard you mastered it. You’ve got to know.”
“Drone Wars…what level did you say? Fifteen? What’s going on at that level?” She tried to inject enthusiasm into her voice.
“It’s a jungle mission in the Congo. The trees are hell on getting a visual on the targets,” he prompted.
“The jungle.” She didn’t loveDrone Wars.It lacked the complexity and sophistication of games that let you do some building. “Try flying below the canopy.”
“That’s hell on avoiding crashing.”
“It’s a level about flying skill.” Crap, that came out catty.
“That’s all you’ve got for me? Improve my flying skills and go below the trees?” He frowned. “There’s some guy bee-lining for us.”
She craned her neck to look toward the entrance behind her. Her pulse pounded in her ears. The rapidly approaching, totally gorgeous Noah couldn’t be aiming for her. She turned to gaze past her date, trying to find Noah’s target. Only one table was set behind them, with an older couple. She twisted around to stare at Noah again.
He halted next to the table, inches away from her. She lifted her gaze. The intensity in his eyes stole her breath. Images of him naked, of tracing his spectacular tattoo haunted her.
He pulled a chair from a nearby empty table to sit.
“Can I help you with something?” She jumped when his knee bumped into hers under the made-for-two table. She rotated her legs away from him.
“We need to talk,” Noah said.
“Right now? Kind of on a date here.” Her eyes darted across the table, but her date hadn’t yet passed beyond silent outrage.
“I noticed.” Noah’s voice dropped an octave. His eyes narrowed in the direction of her date.
Was he jealous?
His leg hit hers again. A second time meant the bump was on purpose. Her body electrified. This zing of nervous anticipation is what she’d missed with every other guy she’d dated before Noah, and apparently after.
