Page 118 of Slumming It
"Well youdidsay it was a date." A faint blush appeared on her cheeks, and she lowered her voice. "Unless…you meant something else? Like a consulting date or something?"
It was a funny thought, and I might have laughed if she didn't look so mortified by the prospect – or if the situation were any less serious.
Me, I was used to being hounded – and not only by reporters. I didn't like it, but I could deal with it just fine.
Until now.
Now, I wasn't liking the idea of Emily getting more attention than she wanted. Earlier, I hadn't been joking. Here at the restaurant, more than one man had been checking her out – not within the past five minutes, of course, considering the look I'd given thelastguy who'd been ogling her in all the wrong places.
Asshole.
She wasmydate, not his, and I wasn't one to share. To her question, I replied, "It's a real date – unless you say otherwise."
She visibly relaxed. "I just didn't want to assume anything, that's all."
"Assume all you want," I said with a smile. "But you're forgetting the second question."
"I didn't forget. I just know the answer." She gave a small laugh that would fool nobody into thinking she was trulyamused. "Obviously, we're not a real couple. We've only just met, and besides, our lives are crazy-different. To think otherwise would be silly, right? I totally get it. And it's not a big deal, really."
She was lying. Itwasa big deal. I could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice. But there was something she needed to know.
I reached out and took her hand in mine. "It's a big deal tome."
"It is?" Her eyes clouded with confusion, but she didn't pull away. "Why?"
Images from early this morning flashed in my brain – Emily upset, me acting like total prick, Emily fleeing my car and falling on the pavement, and finally, me driving her to her parent's house – a place that was empty, remote, and unprotected – as if leaving her alone would solve anything.
I wasn't normally the kind of guy to feel shame. But I was feeling it now, just like I'd been feeling it all day. It was a new sensation, and I didn’t enjoy it. But that was my problem, not Emily's.
I gave her hand a tender squeeze. "Because I was an ass. And I still want to make it up to you."
She looked shocked by the admission. "Really?"
"That's why we're here," I reminded her. "And I've got a proposition if you're ready to hear it." When she gave a slight nod, I continued. "Are we a real couple? I'd say no because faking it doesn't count. But I'm done with all that. And I wantyouto be done, too."
A soft breath escaped her parted lips, and she glanced down at our still-joined hands. "So, what are you saying?"
"No more faking it," I reiterated. "But Idowant to get to know you better."
"You do?"
I smiled. "Don't look so surprised."
"I can't help it," she said. "I was pretty sure you hated me."
I didn't hate her.
I wanted her.
Hell, I even liked her. And the idea of anything bad happening to her made me want to kill someone, including Slade who'd spent much of this afternoon trying to tell me I was nuts.
In response, I'd toldhimto shove it and called in a substantial favor – one he'd been wanting to settle for years. Turns out, payback wasn'talwaysbad, even if Slade had done his share of griping at the service I'd demanded.
But he would do what he had promised, no doubt aboutthat.
To Emily, I said, "Whatever I'm feeling, it's not hate."
Her brow creased in confusion. "Well that's good. But whatareyou feeling?"
