Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)(36)
“Can I get you anything?” she asks Will, still in a daze.
He laughs, eyeing the table. “Normally I would say yes, but it looks like the whole menu is already here.” He looks up at me inquisitively, one brow lifted. So impressive, that ability.
I fidget with the napkin beside my plate. “I was nervous while I waited. So I went ahead and ordered a few things for us…”
“Just a few,” he repeats with a smile in my direction and then looks back up to Jeanine. “I think I’ve got everything I need here. Thank you.”
“All right, darling, well…just holler if you need anything.” She gives me a speaking glance and then slowly pulls herself away to return to the area behind the counter.
Will leans forward slightly. “What was that look for?”
I shrug my shoulders even though I know exactly what that look was about. And then I push my full plate away because suddenly I can’t even entertain the idea of eating. “All right. Let’s do this. What’s first?”
Will’s gaze moves from my plate to my face, a cautious smile in place. “What do you mean?”
I gesture between us. “Dating. What do I do first? You’ve sat down, I ordered you everything you could possibly need. What do I do now? Especially with my hands because I’m getting the urge to wave them around for no reason.”
And wow, that’s so freeing to say to someone. Normally, on dates I have to keep those thoughts in my head, but in this scenario, I can spill my guts and nothing bad happens. Amelia is a genius.
“You don’t need to do anything with your hands.”
“It feels like I do. How’s this?” I perch them on the table, and he watches, tracking my movements as I adjust them again. “No? How about like this then?” I spread my arm over the back of the booth. I scrunch my nose. “This feels manly. Do I look manly? Does this look like I’m asserting dominance, because I can tell you right now I’m a beta all the way.”
Will reaches across the table and pushes my plate back in front of me. “How about you just eat this?”
“I can’t eat. I’m too nervous.”
“What’s there to be nervous about?”
“You,” I say honestly before I remember to filter. Something about Will does this to me, though—I can’t help but say exactly what I’m thinking. “Or…you as in men. A date. You get it.”
He picks up his water glass, presses his lips to the rim, and takes a quick drink. “I have a secret you might like to know. It’s related to your pirate books.”
I have never needed to know anything more in my entire life. “Tell me,” I say leaning over the table and splaying my hands on the surface like I’m willing to push the entire thing away if need be.
He grins and nods toward my plate. “Take a bite and I will.”
I eye him sideways, seeing right through his tactics. “I’m not one of those girls you have to worry about eating, you know? I like food normally. Enjoy it often. Could probably clean most of these plates myself if this weren’t a practice date making me feel like barfing.” I wince. “I said barfing at the table. On a date. See, this is why I opt for silence, usually. When you get me going, there’s no filter.”
He shakes his head—seemingly unfazed by my barf comment. “It’s just me. You can’t mess up because there’s nothing to mess up. I’m your practice person, remember?” He holds my gaze. “You’re safe with me.”
His gentle tone has all of the tension in my body melting away like butter on toast. I take in a deep breath and release it. “Okay.”
“Okay.” A smile. “Now eat.”
As if on cue, my stomach growls. With a revived appetite, I switch my plate of eggs for the burger and fries. After biting into the burger, I wipe my mouth with my napkin and raise my eyebrows at Will. “A bite for a secret. Let’s hear it, Wolf Boy.”
He points lazily to his ear. “I used to wear an earring.”
My mouth falls open, but then I remember there’s food in there and clamp it shut. Sudden vivid images of Will in a pirate outfit, pistols hanging off a leather belt around his waist, shirt gaping open over his inked chest, and now…a silver hoop in his ear. Or no, it would be something gaudier. An emerald. A ruby he stole from a lady in a ballroom. The same ballroom he spots me in, and then decides he needs me. Can’t live another second without me. To the screams of the entire room, he snakes his arm around my waist and hoists me off the ground, stealing me away into the night. He takes me to his ship (which is somehow docked nearby), where he pushes me back against the railing and then his mouth crashes over mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and—
“What the hell is going on in your head right now?” he asks, pulling me from my fantasy.
My face flames. “Nothing. Let’s change the subject.” I squirm in my seat, suddenly feeling both hot and awkward. Will can never know what was going on in my head.
He hums, grinning like he somehow already knows. I wad my napkin and throw it at him. “You don’t know.”
“I think I do.” He circles a finger around his face. “You wear all your thoughts on your face. So openly. You were taking my clothes off in your head.”
I gasp like an outraged matronly woman. “Absolutely not.”