Well, that made me feel better.
“But…”
Okay, the feeling was gone again.
“I did hold off because of your brother.”
“What?” I was confused.
He glanced at me, back to the road. “I needed a chance to talk to him, to tell him what my plans were with you. Since me showing you around the club was a favor to him, I figured I owed him that much.” We stopped at a red light and he turned toward me, leaned closer. “But this is no longer a favor. I’m here with you because I want to be.”
I inhaled deeply and relief washed away the gloom. “You didn’t call me because you wanted to get permission from my brother?”
He laughed, but it sounded frustrated. “Yeah. Stupid, right?”
“No, not stupid,” I assured him. “It makes perfect sense.”
Turned out, chivalry wasn’t dead.
There was silence for a few minutes as he drove. I was so caught up in my thoughts, I didn’t even realize we’d arrived until he turned toward me, took my hand. He was close enough our lips almost touched.
“So, you’ll have to forgive me for not contacting you sooner. Believe me, I wanted to more than anything.”
I smiled, the warmth of his hand coursing through my entire body. I suddenly wished he would kiss me. My thoughts drifted to Cav, to the kisses we’d shared. The heat inside me intensified. The thought of both men kissing me was nearly more than I could handle.
A soft growl pulled me from my thoughts.
“Where’d you go, sweetness?”
I cleared the lust-induced haze from my brain, swallowed. “I was just thinking that I’m glad you did ask me out.”
“Me, too.” He nodded toward the building. “You bowl?”
My smile fell. “What?”
“Bowling.”
Yeah. I saw that now.
“They’ve got a decent restaurant inside. You hungry?”
“Starving,” I muttered.
He released my hand, turned toward the door. Before we both exited, I heard him say, “Yeah, me, too. So fucking hungry.”
Two hours later, Edge and I were laughing.
“So, I take it this isn’t your sport?” I asked, motioning toward the remaining pins on the lane.
“What? Bowling?” He chuckled roughly as he sat down and modified the score. “No.”
“So why come?”
“Because everyone knows you can’t go to a movie on the first date,” he said simply, his attention on the paper.
The laugh that erupted out of me had people turning to look my way.
“That’s funny?”
“It is because it’s true,” I told him. “So is that what this is? A date?”
His expression sobered and I suddenly regretted the question. I hadn’t meant to put him on the spot.
“Yeah,” he finally said. “I guess it is.”
I couldn’t believe how much the man had talked throughout the evening. While he hadn’t said much of anything at the club the other night, he certainly wasn’t lacking in the conversation department. We’d discussed my classes, my degree, even a bit about Zeke. Then he’d regaled me with the tale of how he met Cav—during their freshman year in college at an off-campus party—then explained how they’d become fast friends. Then I’d learned how he’d come to be the manager of Dichotomy, his relationship with Trent Ramsey, as well as his concerns now that he was working full-time at Chatter PR.
“You up for another game?” he asked, nodding toward the lane.
I stared in front of me, inhaled, then shook my head. “Not really, no.”
“Don’t want to beat me too badly, huh?”
“Since you’ve let me win all of them so far…” I grinned.
“Trust me, sweetness, I didn’t let you.”
No, he hadn’t. The man really did suck at bowling. But I wasn’t about to rub it in.
What I really wanted was to spend a little time alone with him. Tonight had been nice. We’d shared some nachos and a hot dog while splitting a pitcher of beer. We’d played game after game, passing the time with me kicking his butt every single time.
As though relieved, Edge quickly took off his bowling shoes and I followed suit. A few minutes later, we were turning in all our things and heading back out to his car.
“What now?” I asked, hoping he wasn’t going to simply take me home for the evening.
He shrugged. “Want to go see a movie?”
I laughed, couldn’t help it. “Sure.”
His head snapped over to me. “Seriously?”
My turn to shrug. “Why not? We’ve gotten the first part of the date out of the way, right? It’s not bad form at this point.”
“It’s always bad form on the first date,” he said, his tone light.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Figuring he was right, I said, “Okay. Then what’s on the agenda?”
“Your choice.”
“Ice cream,” I blurted.
“I know the perfect place.”
A few minutes later, we were pulling into a small ice cream shop. I met Edge at the front of the car, where he took my hand and walked me inside. When it was our turn to order at the counter, I kept my fingers linked with his, not wanting to let him go.
