Page 64 of Tripped Up

After a moment to refresh her lipstick, we head out. She lets me hold her hand on the walk through her building, then when we’re in the car, she takes my hand and sets it on her thigh.

She’s initiating.

Maybe I have a chance with her after all.

The upscale steakhouse is a little sultry. The low lighting sets the mood, and when we’re ushered to our table in a quiet corner, Elsy’s feet tangle with mine.

“This is… nice.”

I raise my eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound sincere.”

She shrugs. “You don’t have to work that hard to impress me. You have money. That doesn’t do anything for me.”

“Us being here has nothing to do with money,” I reassure her. “I brought you here because the food is supposed to be good. Yeah, I want to impress you. I’ve got a lot of making up to do. And if that starts with good food, good wine, and some good orgasms for you, I’ll consider that a job well done.”

Her cheeks pinken, but she lifts her chin and stares me down. “Awfully bold of you to presume I’m letting you in my pants again anytime soon.”

My stomach twists, but if you can’t be confident, fake it until it’s true.

“It doesn’t have to happen tonight. I’m not in a rush.”

That’s not a line. As much as I’d love for us to resolve this and put everything behind us, I know getting into her heart is more important than getting into her pants.

Although if she were down for both, I wouldn’t say no…

Elsy raises her eyebrows. “You’re not?”

“I figure I’ve still got a lot to make up for. Thirteen years of it, actually.”

Her brilliant blue eyes sparkle as she purses her lips. “We’ll see.”

I fucking love that she doesn’t let me off the hook. When we met, I epically screwed up; I recognize the gravity of what I said, and I’m ready to take ownership of that, to prove that’s not who I am.

The waiter takes our orders and our menus, and when I reach for her hand, I’m gratified when she lets me.

“I have a lot to make up for,” I tell her softly. “If it takes me the rest of my goddamn life, I’ll prove to you that I’m not that guy anymore.”

She frowns. “I want to believe you. Really, I do. I just⁠—”

“You’ve been hurt before,” I return. “By me.”

“And others.” Her eyes flick away before they meet mine. “I’m not… my exes…”

My stomach twists into a tangled knot as I swallow. “Did they hurt you? Physically?”

“Just words.” Her bitter smile tells me plenty, and I don’t like it one bit. “But their words did enough.”

“Fuck, Elsy. I—I’m so sorry. For me, for them. For all of us. You didn’t deserve that. You never deserved to be treated that way.”

“It’s fine.” Her hand twitches like it can flick the thoughts away.

But I reach out and lace our fingers together, cursing the table separating us. “It’s not fine. Nobody should have to deal with that. Nobody. And you—you just take it with a smile.”

“I’m not always smiling,” she says, deadpan.

I fix her with a look.

She breaks, letting out a small smile. “Okay, I smile a lot. So what? It’s a defense mechanism.”