Now, with a little alcohol to relax me, I found myself enjoying his face just fine. Plus, he wasn’t my brother’s best friend, he didn’t work with my sister, and we had no history together. I laughed at one of his jokes, and then Allan excused himself to go to the bathroom. As soon as he did, my phone dinged with a text.
Dante: You didn’t take your ride.
Me: Wow. Leonardo really updates you about everything. Anyway, telling my date that I need to be chauffeured around would probably be a red flag.
Dante: You’re making things difficult again.
Me: Not difficult. I’m on a date. Please stop texting me.
Dante: Your date’s in the bathroom sniffing coke. So the sooner you end the date the better.
His text had me jerking my gaze up and whipping it around the room. The restaurant was so small that I would have seen Dante if he were there.
Me: Are you watching me?!
Dante: So what if I am?
Me: That’s a complete invasion of privacy. How am I supposed to be casual and free to do what I want here with you doing this?!
Dante: I told you you’re free as long as you're safe.
Me: Stop watching me.
Dante. Fine. Stop drinking.
Me: Are you kidding me right now? I’ll do whatever I want.
Dante: Don’t make more trouble, Lilah.
Me: Don’t tell me what to do.
Dante: Why not? You listened so well last night.
I looked around for security cameras and saw a red light blinking in the upper dark corner of the restaurant. He probably wasn’t watching live but I still flipped it off in anger. I threw my phone into my purse when I saw Allan coming back to the table.
He looked completely normal, except that his finger tapped the table very fast and suddenly he wanted another drink and then to leave.
Our date went in fast-forward for the next five minutes. Allan downed a shot and offered me one, which I took as I glared at the camera. Then he was paying the bill and ushering me to his car.
That should have been the moment I told him I could take an Uber alone, that I didn’t want him back at the hotel. Instead, I told him the Uber would be better for both of us. “We shouldn’t drink and drive, right?”
“Of course, of course,” he mumbled.
Texts from Dante were blowing up my phone, and before I could even get my app to work, Leonardo pulled up and lowered the car’s window. “You Delilah for an Uber?”
I stared at him for a second as Allan went to open the car door for me, but Leonardo just winked. I sighed and folded into the car as I read Dante’s text.
Dante: You want to play games, Lamb, you’ll lose. Drinking when you’re out with a strange man isn’t smart. You know better.
Me: Maybe I don’t.
Dante: End the date.
He had some nerve.
Me: I’m not ending the date! I’m having a great time.
Dante: I could show you a better time back here. You want dinner and your pussy licked, I’ll do both.
Me: I don’t want to have dinner with a friend. And I don’t want my pussy licked by you.
That was very clear. He couldn’t cockblock me after saying we’d be friends. He had me on some pedestal, and I was about to jump off right into the arms of another man. I was ready for it. Except … I was texting him instead of making out with my date.
Dante: Now, that’s a lie. Bet it’s wet just thinking about me.
I scoffed out loud as I texted him back, and Allan shifted next to me. “Everything all right, Delilah?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just a bit of family drama.” I shrugged.
“No worries. I have to get back to the new doc on rotation, anyway.”
Dante: You bringing him here won’t end well. All he wants is ass while he’s high.
Me: Oh, so to him I’m just a piece of ass?
Dante: Yeah, you’re too good for him.
Me: I don’t want to be good.
Dante: End the date, Lilah. Or I’ll end it for you.
Oh, God. I knew Dante was going to ruin this for me. How could I get over him when all I was thinking about was getting under him? It wasn’t fair. He’d practically helped mold my sexuality in the first place.
And as I stared at Allan, I couldn’t stop looking for a stronger jaw, bigger muscles, and tattoos on his arms that I knew weren’t there.
It was stupid, it was wrong, and it was everything I knew I shouldn’t be doing, but I grabbed Allan and kissed him hard, trying to search for any spark. He kissed me back rapidly, like he couldn’t bring himself to slow down.
When the car stopped in front of my hotel, I invited him up.
Not because we had chemistry, not because the kiss was so good, and not because his hands knew what they were doing under my skirt—they didn’t. I did it solely to piss off the man who did know how to do everything under my clothes.