“Reciprocate how you feel?”
Her cheeks heated. “Well, yeah. Come on, Slade. You’reyou,” Rain emphasized like that meant something. “It’s impossible to not be sucked into your gravitational pull.”
Reason number 161 for why I didn’t deserve her.
Because fuck, she was smart, and I didn’t understand most of what came out of her mouth.
“You guys good here?” I didn’t look up at the server, who paused a little too close. Her sickly sweet perfume clogged my sinuses, and her bare arm brushed against my bicep as she dragged my plate closer to the edge of the table. “Wow, you took all that down. That’s more than this big guy.”
My hackles rose at her snarky tone directed toward Rain.
Sweet Rain, who just smiled like she didn’t understand the rude undertone of the woman’s comments.
“Yeah, I was hungry,” she said, patting her flat stomach. “But in all honesty, I’d eat that much even if I’d had more than a smoothie for lunch.” Leaning forward, she rested both elbows on the table and flicked her hazel eyes my way. That smile turned mischievous. “Do you know who this is?”
The waitress huffed. “Of course, I know who he is. My older brothers talked about him nonstop.”
Rain’s brows furrowed. “Your brothers? Wait, are they criminals or something? Is that—”
“What the fuck?” the waitress snapped. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you said you know who he is. The best homicide detective in Santa Coasta—”
“I was talking about him as an NFL player.”
Surprise lit across Rain’s face, and it made me want to thread my fingers through her dark hair and pull her face to mine for a deep kiss. Of course, this woman didn’t see me as who I was but who I am.
Wasn’t that all I wanted?
And here I was, pushing her away. At the very least not correcting her assumption of me posturing because Jameson was in town.
“Oh, right.” Rain flicked her gaze around the restaurant, clearly uncomfortable now.
Yanking out my wallet, I slapped my credit card down on the table. “We’ll take the check.”
I didn’t look the young woman’s way, just kept my focus trained on Rain.
“Sorry,” she whispered once the server walked away. “Worst wingwoman ever.”
My brows flew up my forehead. “That’s what you were trying to do?”
“Yes, and I clearly failed.” She groaned and slumped back against the booth seat. “This is why I don’t have friends.”
“Stop it,” I snapped. “Stop talking shit about yourself, you hear me? You’re perfect. They’re the idiots for not seeing how amazing you are.”
Fuck. Well, that just slipped. Though every word was true.
“You don’t know me, Slade. I’m awkward, anxious, and prefer the silence of my morgue to being out with the living. It’s nothing new. I’ve always been a bit of a loner.” Her fingers nervously ripped at the paper napkin, tearing it into long strips. “I think it’s too far-fetched to find someone who lets me be me but will also fill that part of me that’s hopelessly lonely.”
I sucked in a breath and held it to keep from shouting that I could be that man.
That I could be her partner in life.
I wouldn’t stifle her career. I’d let her be the amazing woman she was yet be there in the background waiting.
But I did the opposite.
“You know, Bend has a thing for you. I told you he was asking about your relationship status.” The words were like poison on my tongue, slowly killing me from the inside out.