Page 9 of Tobias

“Yes, sir.”

He nods once before putting the car in drive, checks to see if any cars are coming, then takes off. We’re at the restaurant in thirty minutes because we hit a bit of traffic.

Allen pulls the door open for me. “Have a great evening, sir,” he says as he steps aside, allowing me out.

“You as well.” I hurry up to the front door, pulling it open to step inside.

“Good evening, how can I help you today?” the hostess asks. She’s a young girl with bleach-blond hair and bright blue eyes. New, I think, because I haven't seen her before.

“I’m a few minutes early, I believe. I’m here to meet with Theodore Beaumont.”

“Oh yes,” she says with a bright smile. “Mr. Beaumont was just seated. Here, let me take your jacket.” I give it to her, and she hands it off to the young man off to the side, who will bring it to the coat check. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll bring you to him.”

I give her a kind smile and follow after her.

It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten nervous before a date, and tonight is no different. I have no issue meeting new people, sitting down to dinner with them, and listening to their story. Believe it or not, I feel like a therapist a lot of the time. Most dates, when it’s one-to-one like this, talk the entire time. They’re lonely and want companionship, but something is stopping them from doing it the real way. So instead, they pretend. I’m a great listener and an excellent conversationalist. I enjoy speaking with people, learning about them and what they like, what makes them tick, how they think, what they’ve done with their lives. I find it all fascinating.

I spot him across the room. His back is to me, so I can’t thank the IG photo for recognizing him. It’s the fact he’s the only person alone at the table, and he’s slightly hunched over, his leg shaking a mile a minute. He looks absolutely petrified, even from behind. I’ve gone on a lot of dates with people who are nervous, but this guy looks like he’s one jump-scare away from a heart attack.

“Mr. Beaumont, your guest is here,” the hostess says, causing him to look up at her, but his eyes immediately dart to me. His pupils dilate, lips part, and he swallows hard.

What a fucking reaction. I’ll take it.

Chapter Five

Theodore

Ihatethe way my body reacts when I see him. I knew he was hot from his photos on the website, but holyfucking hell, this man is sex on legs. He has this classic model look about him, something I didn’t know was a weakness of mine until I’m staring him dead in the eyes. His smoldering gaze is the exact kind that draws you in and makes you think of nothing but sex. Never mind the way he’s dressed. Looks like he popped off the page of a fucking magazine. Christ, I’m in so much trouble.

He gives me a smug smile, almost as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. There's no way he doesn't. He must get this sort of reaction all the time.

“I’ll let your server know you’re all set for her,” the hostess says cheerily as he takes his seat across from me.

“Thank you, Miss,” he says politely, folding his hands and resting them on the table. Oh my God, even his voice is like sex. Smooth and husky… “So, Theo?”

And my name—he said my name, and it sounds so fucking good. This was so stupid of me. What am I doing here? All I can do is stare at him, blinking, my mouth going dry as my mind runs rampant. Bouncing from dangerous topic to dangerous topic.

“Are you okay?” he asks gently, as if he actually cares. But obviously he doesn’t. He’s being paid to be here as my date. This isn’t real.

I still can’t answer, and so now I’m thinking that getting up and leaving is my best bet. Stranger or not, there is no way I can talk to this man about what I’m feeling. Look at him, for fuck’s sake! He’s hotter than literal hell. You could jump into a volcano and it would be nothing compared to this man.

“This can be a lot,” he says with a gentle smile. “It’s intimidating and scary. For a ton of reasons, too. But I promise I won’t bite.” He grins, leaning back in his chair. “Unless, of course, you want me too.”

Oh, fuck…

This is such a bad idea. My dick is so hard, and these tight pants are not helping. I feel like I’m having an existential crisis. I can’t figure out if I’m panicking because of this situation or because I am so attracted to this man—it’s pathetic.

“So, have you been here before?” he asks.

You’re being rude, Theo. So fucking rude. This man was nice enough to grace you with his otherworldly beauty, and here you are just ignoring him.

“Uh,” I say, licking my lips and taking a shaky breath. “Yes." I clear my throat. "Yes, I’ve been here before.”

“Cool, me too,” he answers simply, as if I’m not acting like an incompetent idiot. If my mother saw me, she’d have a coronary. “There’s actually an underground tunnel beneath us. It was built after the Great Seattle Fire.”

Good lord, he’s smart too. I’m going to cry. I am going to jerk off to this man later as tears spill down my face, because how the hell is he real?

“1889,” I manage to get out.

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