Page 14 of His Dark Vices

CHAPTER 5

Bree

Companion buzzes on my wrist with what feels like excitement. Or maybe I'm projecting. It praises me with hearts when I switch off the alarm. Honestly, I didn't need to set a reminder. I've thought about this date every day since we agreed that morning. When I wasn't wondering what he sees in me, I was thinking about what I'd wear, what we'd eat, how the night would go. Thinking about how he set up a date without calling it that, how he totally likes me, well, I couldn't help but get excited.

Okay, maybe he doesn't like me. But he does want to see me again.

And apparently, we're going to a fancy restaurant? He told me the dress code was elegant chic, but that's all.

Even now, butterflies are flitting around in my stomach. I don't know exactly where we're going, but I made sure to look the part. I picked a soft white turtleneck dress that hugs my body down to my knees, strapless to show off my shoulders. White platform heels complete the look, kind of pushing the limits ofelegant chic, but what the hell. I rarely get to dress up like this, and I feel sexy. I'm just finishing up my makeup—just a natural look with a deep red lip—when Companion lets me know I've got a text message.

As I was hoping, it's from Sam.

"Aah, he'll be here in five minutes," I sing out loud to no one, smoothing my hair in the mirror.

My curls are slicked back into a high ponytail. No doubt about it, I look good tonight. I smile widely at my reflection, then run to pick up my purse and the last few things I need for the night before heading out the door.

Maybe I'm more excited for the date than anything else. I don't know much about Sam other than he's hot. We haven't been texting much this week, he seems super busy. But what I do know is that it's been too long since I've gone out. Guys just aren't that into me. I've been getting kind of worried about that, actually. For some reason, I seem to scare them off. When a guy asks me out, he ends up ghosting me after the first date. So although Companion helps me track sexual encounters in the case of surprise pregnancies, I haven't had much to log. I can only get lucky for one-night stands when I'm feeling impulsive.

I'm nervous as I wait for Sam to pull up to my street. Is he going to ghost me, too? That'd be so awkward. What if he stops responding to my texts and I run into him at the park?

Too late to back out now, though. A stately vehicle is slowing down next to the curb in front of me, all black and gleaming, and I have to clench my teeth to stop my jaw from dropping open. Sam gets out from the back once it comes to a stop and walks over to me.

"Bree, nice to see you again," he says with a grin.

His dark hair frames his face and tumbles to his shoulders in waves, freshly combed rather than carelessly tousled or pulledinto a low ponytail. And his tailored gray suit is paying him every compliment in the book.

"Ready to go?" he asks, nudging me out of my daze as he opens the door for me. The car looks too expensive to even touch.

"Yes, sorry!" I say, coming to life and walking forward to ease into the car.

"You look lovely," he says softly as I sit, and I smile up at him.

He closes the door, and I settle into the creamy leather. Sure enough, a driver sits at the front, separated from me by a thick partition of glass. I'm trying to wipe the surprise off my face when Sam gets back in beside me.

This guy is loaded!

"Some car!" I blurt out, unable to contain myself.

"You like it?" he asks calmly. "It gets me where I need to go."

The driver starts to pull away as I laugh at Sam's response.

"Are you sure I'm not underdressed for the restaurant?" I go on, incredulous. I think back to the two times I've seen him, and nothing even hinted at him having money like this.

"You look perfect."

I blush at his compliment, forgetting why I was shocked for a moment.

"I hope you'll like it," he goes on. "It's one of my favorite places."

"You haven't told me where we're going," I remind him, the nervousness trickling back in. I suddenly don't know what to do with my hands. I clasp them tightly together in my lap, feeling shy.

"I haven't?" Sam glances down at my hands, which makes me stop fidgeting.

He leans forward and takes the lid off a black metal bucket resting on the spacious car floor. Inside is a slender bottle, which he gently takes out. Skillfully, he pours the bubbly liquor intoa thin glass before replacing the bottle. When he returns his attention to me, he scoops my hand up from my lap, cradling it in his huge warm one, and pushes the glass stem between my fingers.

"Here, to take the edge off. There's nothing to be nervous about." Sam smiles reassuringly at me, his eyes lingering on mine.

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