Page 27 of Anti-Player

“Oh, god, I was joking. You mean you really... wow. Wow wow wow.”

“Do you not want these?” he asks, lifting the flowers and candy.

Crossing my arms, I kick my hip to one side, acting like I'm in deep thought. “No. I want them. But didn't you tease me about not filling up on candy?”

His smile vanishes. “I'm really sorry about that stupid tip.”

I heard it in his voice through the door, but now, seeing it written all over his face, there's no doubt he means it. “Give me those,” I say, holding out my hands. Mikel passes me the gifts he brought. “I forgive you. Now, why do you look like you walked straight out of a picture window in Beverly Hills?” I gesture at my green VR suit with the bouquet. “I'm way under dressed. Just how fancy is the place you're taking me to dinner?”

“According to BuzzFeed, it's one of LA's top places for a romantic meal.”

I can't hold in my laughter. “You researched our whole encounter. I gotta say, I expected something different from you.”

“How so?” he asks curiously.

I wave the chocolates in the air as I speak carefully. The things Juliet planted in my brain about the type of man Mikel is have taken root, they aren't easy to rip free. “Like... you're clearly a rich and handsome guy—”

“Thank you.”

Blushing, I hurry to add, “So I figured you took girls out all the time. But you're giving me 40 year old virgin vibes.”

“I'm 26,” he says with disbelief. “Do I look 40?”

“No, it's a movie reference. Please tell me you watch movies or we'll never get along.”

“Of course I watch movies. I just haven't heard of that one. Back up, you thought I was some sort of player?”

“I... guess, yes.”

Mikel goes dead still, then he throws back his head with an amused groan. Massaging his temples he gives me a gorgeous, somewhat sheepish smile. “If anything, I'm an anti-player.”

Unexplained pride moves through me. Clearing my throat, I back into my apartment. “You can come in while I get changed. But you have to do something else for me.”

“Anything,” he says earnestly.

“Take back the money. I can't keep that ten-thousand.”

Mikel angles his head higher, like he's waiting for me to shout Surprise! I'm kidding! “Not many people would give the money back.”

“I'm not many people.”

He laughs lightly. “Right, fine. I understand.”

I push the flowers back into his hands. Then I crack the chocolate box, pick out a nice, dark brown square, and feed it into my mouth. “Dig through my cupboards,” I say, pointing at my chaotic kitchen, “and find something to put those flowers in.”

“You don't have a vase?”

“Did you bring one?”

“No.”

Chewing another piece of candy, I wink. “Then you better get searching, Romeo.”

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