Page 11 of Please Don't Leave Me

After pausing to think it through, showing him that I am seriously considering what I'm getting myself into, I respond, "I think that is exactly what I need right now. I just got out of a long-term relationship, and I don't want anything too serious."

A mischievous grin spreads across his face, and I know I'm in trouble.

The restof dinner was great. We got to know more about each other and talked about life. After the start of our conversation, I was expecting him to keep everything verysurface level. But to my surprise, he actually wanted to get to know me.

After our waiter took away our dessert plates, I was expecting him to bring the check. These things are always so awkward. I like to at least attempt to pay for my meal so I don't seem greedy, but with how he has treated me tonight thus far, I'm guessing that's not going to happen. The waiter never brings us a check, which I find odd, but maybe he already gave them his card when he went to the bathroom earlier. I saw a guy do that in a movie once, and I have always wanted someone to do that for me.

"If you're tired and want to go home, I can have my driver take you. Otherwise, if you're up for having the night continue, there's a cocktail bar I'd love to take you to."

I am not tired one bit. It might be the espresso martini I had with dessert, but I'm guessing it has more to do with the fact that the sexual tension between us is consistently sending electricity through my body.

"I'd love for the night to continue if you're not sick of my sarcasm yet."

He laughs and shakes his head. "Let's go; the car should be out back."

I stand and turn to walk toward the front door when he grabs my hand and tugs me back. "This way." He inclines his head toward the door that I believe goes to the kitchen. I give him a confused look but allow him to guide me through it.

We walk through the kitchen, where none of the staff even bat an eye at us, except for a woman who looks to me like she's in charge back here. We veer over toward her workstation. She wipes her hands on her apron as Matt introduces me, then introduces her. "This is Lana, the head chef here at Orion's.

"Nice to meet you." I shake her hand. "The meal was delicious."

"I'm glad you liked it," she says in a thick accent I can't quite place.

"Have a good night, Lana." I take that as our queue to leave. Matt tugs on my arm again, guiding me to the exit.

We step out the back door and are greeted by the cool night air. My short dress isn't doing much to keep me warm, and I didn't think to bring anything to cover up with. My body breaks out in bumps from the cold, and my nipples harden, my satin dress giving me away. Luckily, the car is right outside the back door.

The door of the black Escalade opens, and Matt guides me in, shutting the door behind me and running around to get in on the other side. The car is already warm, and the seats are heated as well. It takes a few seconds for my body to heat back up, and the pebbles on my skin start to fade. My nipples are the last thing to return to normal. As soon as they fade from plain sight, Matt leans over and whispers in my ear, "I'm sad to see them go. Maybe we should turn on the A/C and get them back."

My breath hitches, and I start getting wet between my thighs. The car starts driving out of the alley, and I can see a smirk on his face, knowing he’s gotten a rise out of me. It's only a few minutes before we pull into another alley. We stop and a man opens my door for me and helps me down.

Matt is right there to offer me his arm, and he escorts me down the alley. I look around, unsure why we aren't stopping at any of the doors back here. When we get to the end of the alley, I start to ask what we’re doing, but I'm cut off by him leaning into me. Did we really walk all the way down here to make out against the back wall of the alley?

Right as I'm about to lean into him, I realize he's notleaning in; he's reaching across me. There's a small string hanging out from between two of the bricks, visible only if you know it’s there. He pulls the string, and I can hear a small bell ring. Then, a lock clicks from the other side of the brick wall. I jump backwards, startled by the brick wall in front of us as it swings open.

I can tell he's getting a kick out of surprising me. He must do this with a lot of women. I wouldn't blame him because this shit has me wanting to give him everything.

He takes my hand, and we walk through the opening in the brick that was not there seconds before. We still haven't spoken a word since getting out of the car. I'm just following him blindly, trusting that he's not leading me to my demise. It's kind of thrilling, and he knows it.

At the end of a dark hallway, we are greeted by a server in a uniform who takes us through another door. This second door opens up into an elegantly decorated speakeasy bar with dim lighting. It's a cozy space, and there are so many nooks and crannies that several of the tables and booths have their own private area. It makes me think that if mob bosses still exist, they would definitely conduct business in a place like this.

We’re guided by the same server to the back of the room and seated in a half-moon booth only big enough for two. The table is situated so it’s isolated from the rest of the bar room—very private.

I just realized that Matt still hasn't said anything. How did the server know who he was or that he had a reservation? This is definitely an establishment that requires reservations well in advance, like Orion. Especially since I haven't even heard of this place. I thought I knew all the hot spots in the city.

Finally breaking the silence, Matt says, "Welcome to The Hallows."

"Am I about to be forced to swear a blood oath to a mob boss and then thrown in a trunk with a bag over my head? Because those are the vibes this place gives off." I'm obviously joking, but it really does.

"I'll tell Jillian you think her design works well for the intended concept."

Should I know who Jillian is? Did he mention her earlier tonight, and I just forgot her name? I really need to get better at remembering people's names.

The waiter comes over, and Matt orders for us after asking what my favorite spirit is. I said vodka because it seemed the safest. "I'll take Tracey's Old Fashion, and she'll have a Sex Under the Mountain."

"Is that drink's name by chance in reference to a trending fairy smut book?"

"I believe so," he says with a nod and that devilish grin he's been giving me all night.

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