Page 12 of Red Zone Realizations
“So, you come here often?” I ask.
Could I embarrass myself any worse? Be any more cliché?
“I come here for all my special occasions.” He wraps a hand around his water glass, letting that tidbit of information soak between us. “My mom’s best friend’s daughter is the head chef. I do my best to fill the tables and get my friends to write five-star reviews.”
I tip my head. “I’ll be sure to write one.” There’s a pause. Both of us are looking at the wine list, although I already know I’m going to let Noah decide.
“Smack women in the face with doors regularly?”
His eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly recovers when he sees the smirk splayed across my face.
“I don’t make a habit of it, no.”
“And that’s what you consider a special occasion?" I tease.
“My special occasions involve people I know—friends, family, but some include those I want to get to know better.” He looks at me as he says the words “get to know better” and every lady part I own starts to tingle.
Holding my breath, I lean my elbows on the table and rest my chin on top. I don’t trust myself to respond, so I change the subject. “So, how long have you been doing yoga?”
“Six months, maybe? I’ve been battling an injury, and yogahas been helping me get my strength back. Now that I have a yoga practice, though, I won’t be quitting.”
He turns my question back on me. “How long haveyoubeen doing yoga?”
“It’s been part of my routine for a couple years, but lately I’ve been using it to keep busy after a bad breakup. I miss it when I don’t go.”
“I’m sorry about your breakup. Were you together long?” He pauses. “You don’t have to answer that. It’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s okay. Like I said, it’s been about six months. We’d been together for years, but engaged for one.” I definitely didn’t want to have this conversation tonight, but I don’t see any reason to outright lie to a man who has been nothing but polite and kind to me.
“Why did you split up? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“We had irrevocable differences.” It’s not the whole story, but it’s the truth. Tonight we’re just getting to know each other; there’s no reason for me to bring out my crazy parade. I probably shouldn’t change the subject again, but I do.
“How did you get hurt?” I should also feel guilty about asking leading questions when I already know the answer, but I don’t. I want him to tell me in his own words.
“Playing football.”
“So, you know a lot about romancing women then?”
He chokes on his sip of water but recovers quickly. “I can see how you would think that, but I’m not a player—well, I’m a player in the literal sense, but not with women.”
I lean back, a small smile playing on my lips. “Noted.” That went better than I expected.
Something spurs him to continue. “Football has been mywhole life. I walked onto my college team freshman year and battled my way into a starting position. After my college career was over, I went into the draft, and here I am. Tight end for the Houston Hurricanes. It’s been a roller coaster. We’ve been in a rebuilding season. Every year we get better, but sometimes disappointment comes with the territory. I was injured trying to catch a deep shot. I broke my ankle and ended up with the whole nine. Surgery, crutches, then walking boots, physical therapy. All of it.”
“Wow, I had no idea.”
“Not a football fan?”
“I just like for both teams to have fun.” I smirk. He guffaws.
“So, what are you into?” His eyes are alight, interested.
“In reference to what? TV? Hobbies? Kinks?” I mock him indignantly. “I’m not sure that’s dinner conversation.”
He shrugs but I catch a playful glimmer in his eye. “It can be, if you want.” I can feel the pink rising in my cheeks.
I didn’t expect to be so unwillingly charmed by this man. I clear my throat, trying desperately to dissipate the blush on my cheeks. “Yoga, obviously. For work, I’m a social media manager for influencers. Well, I own my own firm, so really, I’m accounting, marketing… A jack of all trades.”
