“I am,” the woman next to me says, retreating to her corner.
Carter looks over his shoulder, mostly at me.
“What about you, Gemma?” he asks.
“I’m good,” I say and meet Mason’s eyes in the rearview mirror again. With that, the men shift their focus to the road, and I lean back in my seat as the car glides away.
I have no idea where we’re going.
GEMMA
The two menare engaged in a conversation while the other girl checks her phone as if she’s alone in the car, giggling from time to time at whatever she’s finding amusing on her socials.
It must be that.
What else?
I feel the heat of a stare hovering over my face and tilt my gaze to the rearview mirror.
Mason tears his eyes away from me just as I look at him.
Carter keeps his focus on the road, and I lean back and stare out the window, feeling like I’m alone in the car.
Minutes later, we enter a parking garage and roll to a stop.
We climb out and walk to a restaurant.
Mason and I have little time to talk.
In fact, with Monique mostly doing her thing and the two men talking about things like how bad traffic is on Saturdays, and how expensive Boston is, my participation in their conversation is almost non-existent.
I love that they have thought about taking us to dinner before going to a club or whatever we’ll be doing later.
The restaurant is nice, not too big. And not too small. Not too crowded either. We order Italian food, and the men make it clear it’s on them.
Monique goes wild with her food order.
She orders calamari, pasta, and pizza while I settle for a big salad and broiled salmon.Not exactly Italian food, but it’s the only thing I can push down my throat right now.
Strangely, I’m getting more and more nervous as we go.
I don’t know what gets to me.
It’s probably the fact that I’m not used to going out, as I said before, and also being on a double date with people I don’t know, a woman I can’t connect to, and a man who fucks me deviously and deliciously while paying attention to me all the time, like now as I shove a salad leaf into my mouth.
A man I know nothing about.
I sit next to him, and his hand slides under the table and touches my thigh at some point.
A soft shiver races through me as I tilt my face to him.
Carter watches us from across the table, holding his drink to his lips, more interested in Mason and me than Monique.
“Are you okay?” Mason asks, his lips brushing my ear, the soft puff of air rising goosebumps on my skin.
“Yes. I’m fine,” I say with a contrived smile.
He straightens, and his eyes hold mine, reading the truth in my stare.