Page 42 of Bittersweet

But as I will my feet to keep walking, I find I’m stuck.Frozen.

I want thatbook.

I want to leave it at his café for him, because I know just how much he’d loveit.

No.

Elio is a selfish, sleazy asshole who doesn’t deserve a preloved book, and especially not one from a stunning window display such as this. He doesn’t deserve that, and he doesn’t deserveme.

My stomach is full of butterflies as I enter the steakhouse and tell the host what party I’m with. He leads me straight through to the back of the wild west-themed restaurant, past families with screaming kids, and groups of rowdy men watching the NHL game on giant flat-screens around the bar. It’s not exactly where I envisioned my first date with my hot trainer, but the food here is good, and at least I’ll be able to zone out and watch the Avalanches kick the Knights’ butts.Okay so, that’s likely not going to happen, but a girl candream.

The host brings me to a stop at Marc’s table, and my date stands and kisses my cheek. He smells good, like aftershave and normal boy smells. I sigh. I miss boysmells.

“Hi,Romy.”

“Hi,” I say, taking the seatopposite.

“You look . . .” His gaze rolls over me before finally settling on my boobs. “Hot. You lookhot.”

The compliment doesn’t sit right with me. It might have something to do with the fact that he’s already turned his gaze back to the menu in his hands. “Thanks. So, how was yourday?”

“Long. Too many clients who didn’t want to workhard.”

I gulp, because he spears me with a look as he saysthis.

“Sorry. I’m just . . . I don’t know. It kind of pisses me off, you know? Like I’m happy to take your money, but Get More with Moretti has a 100 percent successrate.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of people getting fit,huh?”

“Yeah, and as a trainer, I don’t accept anything less than perfect.” He continues to prattle on and on about the strong vision he has for changing the world one kale leaf at atime.

I nod as if I’m hanging off every word, but honestly? I thought we’d be able to discuss more than just training and Marc’s gym, and I’m a little annoyed that he hasn’t asked me anything yet, not even, “Didyouhave a good day?” but then I remember what Emma said:"If you don't take a chance soon, you’re going to wind up spending your lifealone."

Up until now, I’ve been picky, finding the smallest of flaws in men and deciding a relationship was doomed before it even began, because they weren’t perfect. They weren’t Elio. God, what an idiot I was. And what an asshole he is. Who goes around pretending they’re not married when they have the perfect family at home? Did he ever once think about what he was risking by flirting with me? Or did he just not give a damn because he’s a man, and men like to play with things until they’re all played out, and then discard us like brokentoys?

“Whoa, what are you doing?” Marc’s harsh tone pulls me from my reverie and I glance down at the water in front of me. The one I’m sloshing all over the table by jabbing my straw violently into theice.

I give a nervous laugh and work to clean up the mess with several of the paper napkins from the dispenser on our table. “Sorry. My hands get carried awaysometimes.”

“Remind me not to hand you a steak knifethen.”

“Ha! You’re really funny. Do you know that?” Marc Moretti isn’t funny, but I need an excuse to draw the attention away from my mentalinstability.

“I have heard it once or twice before.” He shoots me a wink. “It’s not my best attribute, though. Want to guess what most people think thatis?”

I open my mouth and close it like a goldfish. His ego? Is thatit?

Thankfully, I’m saved by thewaiter.

“I’ll have the steak, well done,” I blurt out before the man can even announce the specials. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and Marc screws up hisnose.

“Would you like fries with that,ma’am?”

“Sure,” I say automatically.Because I do want fries. I also want to order a cheeseburger, but I figure fries are treatenough.

Marc shakes his head. “No, she won’t have fries. She’ll have a salad, and make her steak about half the size. We need a hell of a lot more cardio sessions before she can even look atfries.”

Marc gives me his stern personal trainer face and I actually cower. The server glares at my date, then he looks to me for confirmation. I give a sheepish nod and sink lower in my seat because it would be really useful if the floor just opened up beneath me right now. I wouldn’t even scream. I’d just ride that fiery Slip ‘N’ Slide all the way to hell and high-five Satan when I gotthere.

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