The waiter soon returned with our food, and for the rest of the meal, we drank and ate and talked. He told me about Ollie and how he had a natural green thumb. How he’d first come to realize he might want to open a bar. And he asked me about myself too, learning about my hobbies like birdwatching and beta reading Mara’s smutty romance novels. I couldn’t help but notice how easy it was to be around him. Or how his words and the way he spoke them sent butterflies dancing in my stomach.

The bill came, and Cohen reached for it.

“No way,” I said, extending my hand for the leather folder. “We’re splitting the check. Friends split checks.”

“Apparently you have bad friends. I like to treat my friends from time to time, especially when I was the one who asked them to meet up.”

I looked toward the expansive view for a moment, then back to him. “Well, I’m learning something else about you.”

“Yeah?” he asked as he stuffed his credit card into the slot. “What’s that?”

“You’re stubborn.”

He chuckled. “I just know what I want.” His eyes narrowed slightly, like he was seeing me and no one else, and it made my skin sizzle.

Being his friend and nothing more was going to be hard. Ihadto have more self-control than this. Simply the sight of a hot guy had me all off-kilter and thinking about things I shouldn’t have been thinking about in a very public place.

The waiter came and got the card, and Cohen said, “Do you want to get some ice cream after this? There’s a stand nearby, and it has a four-star rating online.”

I giggled. “You check ratings?”

“You don’t?”

I shook my head. “Everyone’s either getting paid to leave a good review or having a bad day and leaves a one-star.”

His eyebrows rose. “So if you saw a review that said someone found a finger in their chili, you would just ignore it.”

“I wouldn’t see it in the first place.” I reached for my drink and finished the last of it. “Take this beer for instance. I never looked at the reviews before I came here, and I’m a very satisfied customer.”

He snorted. “That’s becauseItook you here, andIlooked at the reviews.”

“But if you hadn’t looked at the reviews, it still would have been good.”

With an exasperated smile, he shook his head. “You like to roll the dice, don’t you?”

“When the stakes are small?” I shrugged. “Sure.”

“That’s where we disagree.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, which had been cleared except for our drinks. “See, today, this, wasn’t a small-stake event to me.”

My heart sped. “What do you mean?”

“What’s the one thing you can’t get back?”

I bit my lip, waiting for his answer.

“Time,” he said, his eyes flicking to my mouth. “I knew I’d never get another chance at a first not-date with you. No way was I going to blow it.”

My lips lifted into a smile of their own accord. “Rest assured, you did not ‘blow it.’”

“That’s good to hear.”

The waiter came back, and Cohen scribbled his signature, along with a tip, on the receipt. Twenty-five percent. As a former waitress,swoon.

Standing, he extended his hand and said, “Ice cream?

Despite the voice in the back of my head telling me holding hands was a bad idea, I slipped my fingers through his.

Best bad decision ever.