Page 44 of Reformation

I’m still trying to decide if that was the best or worst decision I could have made.

We’ve talked a few times, I didn’t want her thinking that I was ignoring her. But since there were no events for us to help with this week, I haven’t seen her.

Which is completely unacceptable to me.

That is why I’m now standing outside her door, a bouquet of flowers in my hand, waiting to pick her up for dinner. I wanted to thank her properly for everything she has done for me. When I said this to Charlie, she joked that it was a date. So then I invited her and Mark. She then told me it was a double date.

It’s not any of those things. It’s just a friend taking another friend to a meal at a four-star restaurant with his brother and sister-in-law.

When she opens the door I remind myself of that, because fuck, every time I see her I can’t get over how beautiful she is.

“Is there an airport nearby, or was that just my heart taking off?”

My bad line earns me a well-deserved eye roll. Like always, it’s the perfect ice breaker. “That’s what you’re going to go with?”

“Is it going to score me a dinner date tonight?”

Not a date, asshole. Not. A. Date.

She takes the flowers from my hand and waves for me to come inside. “Only because I’m very hungry.”

As she puts the flowers in water, I take the time to look around Paige’s home. And that’s what this is. A home. It’s modest. I’d guess a two bedroom. The décor is bright but simple. Pictures of her friends, and I’m guessing students, line the walls. It’s pristinely clean but lived in.

It’s absolutely what I would picture for Paige.

“So, where are we going? I hope I’m dressed OK since you refused to tell me.”

“You look beautiful. It’s perfect. I’m still not telling you.”

She lets out a defeated sigh as she grabs her purse and jacket before we make our way out to my car. “I’m not a fan of surprises. What if I have a food allergy? What if it’s all meat and I’m a vegan? What if it’s in a language I don’t know and I end up ordering frog testicles?”

I almost choke on my laugh as I open her car door. Frog testicles? Where does she get this stuff?

“You aren’t vegan. The restaurant is an Italian steakhouse. And you don’t have any allergies that I know of. And frog testicles are fucking disgusting. Come on, Angel, trust me.”

The side look she gives me goes straight to my dick. She’s trying to be defiant and show a little of that sass that comes out when I push her limits. And fuck if it isn’t making me hard as stone as I’m about to drive to meet my brother and sister-in-law.

“Fine.” She lets out in a huff. “But if I can’t find anything to eat on the menu, it’s your fault.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

* * *

Paige

Angel.

The nickname has been stuck in my head ever since he said it to me in the car. I wanted to ask him about it because he’s never called me that before. Well, except when he laid down that cheesy line in the hospital.

Nicknames are so intimate. Even if I’m the furthest thing from an angel.

Between the almost kiss, the flowers he brought, and now the nickname, my mind is going out of control. This probably wouldn’t be happening if I had dated like normal people in their teens and twenties, but I didn’t, so here I am confused as all get out before a maybe double date. And not just with any man, a man I am ridiculously attracted to, who just called me Angel and almost kissed me last week.

I am so in over my head.

“You ready?” Garrett says as I realize we’re parked in front of Marciano’s, an Italian steakhouse that I’ve never heard a bad thing about. I’ve also never eaten here because I have a mortgage to pay and groceries to buy.

“This is where we’re going?”