Page 10 of His Dark Vices

"What's going on in that head of yours?"

I look up to respond, and his closeness catches me off guard. I can't help looking at his plush lips, and the moment I think about what they'd feel like, I suddenly have to get away from him. I jerk backward, but there's no support to catch me—I'm sitting in a stool.

With a yelp, I start flailing as I lose my balance, my arms and legs shooting out. The stool sways with my weight, and I'm bracing for impact when two strong arms wrap around my back. Sam pulls me to his solid torso, and I cling to him like a lover, my seat clattering loudly to the ground. I'm acutely aware that all attention in the restaurant is focused on us. But my senses are flooded with Sam's scent.

"You okay?" Sam whispers, patting my back.

Oh yeah, I'm clinging for dear life.

"S-sorry!"

I push away from him, feeling my cheeks get hot, and immediately busy myself with picking the stool back up. What even just happened? Just because a guy gets close to me, I have to throw myself out of my seat?

Actually, how long has it been since I've had a date?

When I turn back, I expect Sam to already be gone, but he's still standing there, watching me with interest. I brush off my clothes nervously and search for something to say.

"Uh, um, thank you for saving me just now. And I'm sorry the coffee wasn't better. I know you have to get going, but maybe I'll see you around and actually make things up to you someday…" I trail off after rambling, smiling apologetically.

"If you're feeling that badly about it, why don't we make a proper plan?" he offers, seeming like he wants to appease me.

"I really am," I say with a groan and a wince.

I don't want this hanging over me, and I don't want to be afraid to run into him again, either.

"I don't have a lot of time during the day to do something quick, so how about this? We agree to dinner on Friday, and everything is forgiven and forgotten. Sound good?"

Dinner on Friday? Like a date? My mouth opens, but no words come out. I just look into his questioning green eyes, trying to figure out what's going on here.

"It's okay if you don't want to?—"

"No, sure, that's fine!" I blurt out, my pulse suddenly quickening.

"Yeah?" His lips quirk up at one end, and his eyebrows raise. "You sure?"

"Yeah, of course. I'm not a bad person, you know. I don't want to get off scot-free."

"I'm sure you don't." Sam grins and pulls out his phone. "So I can get your number, right? I'll pick a place."

Definitely like a date!

"Yeah, right!"

I pull out my phone, too, and we exchange numbers. I'm a little in shock as I save his number to my phone, but he's chill as usual, totally confident and at ease with the situation.

"I'm definitely going to be late, so I gotta go," Sam says, pocketing his phone. "I'll text you later in the week, okay?"

"I'm sorry!"

It's like that's all I can say.

"Don't worry about it."

Sam's grin makes my heart flip. He heads to the door with a wave, and I watch him until he disappears out of sight.

What just happened?

I sit heavily back onto my stool, thinking things over.

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