Page 41 of Knot That Difficult

I want to find out everything about her.

Then I want to put all the information on flashcards and memorize them.

But there’s no response from Devyn for a long time, and her gaze is distant as I glance at her.

Don’t fuck this up, idiot.

“A couple of hours from here,” she murmurs, her voice sounding far away.

I don’t push. There’s something about that question that doesn’t sit right with her.

So instead, for the next twenty minutes, we keep the conversation light.

I usually hate small talk. I only use it when meeting business acquaintances or attending social events.

Ace hates it as well and doesn’t bother to do it at all.

But Devyn makes conversing entertaining, even if it’s surface-level. There’s an element of excitement and meaningfulness to everything she says, and it’s endearing.

By the time we arrive at the restaurant and the valet takes my keys, I’ve learned a few things about her.

Her favorite color is pink, she hates loud cars, she is obsessed with scented candles, and she has a strong loyalty to the people she cherishes.

It’s all so fuckingcute,a word I never use.

Yet it suits Devyn. She has an infectious passion for life, and it’s impossible to not want to be around her.

It appears the valet driver feels the same.

“Enjoy your dinner,” he says to her, and she gives him a polite, beaming smile.

I would like to give him a beaming black eye, and I think he notices it by the way I shoot daggers at him while he hurries away.

Then I catch Devyn looking at me curiously, and all my frustration melts away.

The valet driver doesn’t get to have a date with her.

I do.

And it will be the first of many; I just know it.

* * *

“Oh,comeon,”she says over a mouthful of bread. “Nothing should taste this good.”

It’s the third time she’s said it, but she’s been complimenting the restaurant nonstop since we came.

Ace and I picked out the restaurant together. I pulled up the top ten restaurants within an hour of Isleton, and Ace went down the rabbit hole of looking up negative and positive reviews for each place.

This French-inspired restaurant was the winner. Floor-to-ceiling windows give a welcoming view of their gardens, and the lighting is dim, with the tables intimate and far enough away from each other for deep conversations.

“I’m glad you like it,” I say, grinning at her enthusiasm.

“I do get a little overexcited at times,” she adds. “I’m warning you now. Sometimes I’m too energetic or get told I overexaggerate a lot. It might be too much for you.”

I shake my head. “You don’t have to worry about that with me,” I tell her.

She quirks her lip and looks away. “But I’m excitable a lot, Connor. Even without caffeine. So, if it gets to be too much, tell me.”

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