Page 67 of No More Bad Boys
On the upside, the deep-dish pizza is delicious. I dive right in, not worrying about what Jeff thinks of my eating habits or whether I have sauce on my chin.
There could besomevalue in being with someone whose opinion I don’t give a flip about.
On the not-so-upside, things don’t get a lot better conversationally. The video game stuff is pretty interesting. For a while. And then it’s too technical, even for me.
Iamhappy for his gaming customers, though. The guy is passionate about his work. And about his cats. All seven of them.
“So I wake up, and Dipsy is licking the inside of my ear—not the top part, you know, but like deep down in the ear canal—”
“Hold that thought,” I interrupt before that deep-dish pizza can make a spontaneous encore appearance.
Sliding out of the booth, I grab my plastic cup and start toward the restrooms. “I’m going to grab a refill.”
As soon as I’m on my feet I see Blake standing in the restaurant’s entryway. He’s scanning the room, and then our eyes meet.
I avoided him all day at work, going so far as to lock the engineering office when I was inside.
But now here he is—he must have followed me from the station or something. I look around the room. There’s nowhere to go.
Well, I do see a sign for the ladies’ room, and I might make it there before Blake reaches me if I sprint. But knowing him, he’ll just wait me out.
He approaches our table—and I can’t help myself—I watch him the whole way.
God, the way he moves.
Just seeing him walk through a pizza parlor makes me flash back to being in bed with him, enjoying that big athletic body—minus the suit.
Guess the lust doesn’t go away instantaneously, either. Well, I’ll have plenty of time to work on it because no matter what he says—
“Cadence—for God’s sake—please let me talk to you. I’m dying here. You havegotto give me a chance,” he pleads when he reaches me.
“Excuse me.”
My date has now gotten out of his side of the booth and is bowing up to Blake’s much bigger form. His tiny hands are firmly planted on his hips, making him look like an irate cartoon chipmunk.
Blake gives him a cursory glance. His eyes immediately return to mine. “Please. I love you. I’ve never felt this way aboutanyonebefore—certainly not your sister.”
“What’s going on here?” my indignant date demands. “Your profile said you werenotin a relationship.”
I speak to Jeff but keep my eyes trained on Blake. “That’s true. He’s… no one. No one important to me, anyway.”
The lie makes my stomach clench, but I stand firm, not allowing my gaze to waver.
Looking stricken by my cold-hearted description of him, Blake continues nonetheless. “You can’t just walk away from this.”
“I can and I did.”
Now, I turn to Jeff. “I’m not in a relationship. He’s my ex.”
“Well, then...” My blind date clears his throat and straightens to his maximum height, still not quite reaching Blake’s, but I have to admire the effort. “I’ll have to ask you to leave. We were enjoying a nice dinner date—”
He has finally succeeded in getting Blake’s attention. And probably regrets it.
Blake turns to him, towering over him with his fists clenched. His voice is low and practically a growl as he addresses hiscompetition.
“The date’s over, friend. I’ll pay the tab. Would you excuse us? She’ll call if she’s interested.”
Jeff glances nervously over at me, clearly intimidated and tempted to accept Blake’s dismissal.
