She was early.
This will be our seventh date, by now, I shouldn't be surprised. Tardiness was not one of her traits.
I stood outside the Italian restaurant, hands in my pockets, staring through the large windows. There was a voice in my head telling me to turn around and walk away, forget about this ridiculous deal and hit the road. I couldn't do that though, not to my father, or even the woman sitting in that restaurant, waiting for me.
I'm not the only one who agreed to this deal, I reminded myself. She was as much a part of this as I was.
Exhaling a deep breath, I shoved open the restaurant door. A little bell chimed, informing the hostess of my arrival. She started to smile-- before she could greet me, I made a beeline for the table Toni was seated at.
She was wearing a soft pink blouse and a white pencil skirt, her honey blond hair pulled into a high pony tail on her head. The perfect description of a good girl.
She smiled politely when as I slid into the chair opposite her. "Good evening, Sawyer."
It was too formal, like this was a business deal rather than a date. In some ways, I guess it was.
I still fucking hated it.
"Good evening."
Her thin lips pursed into a tight line when I didn't smile. She hated that about me. Not that I could blame her, I hadn't been trying very hard to make this work. I just couldn't bring myself to want this. I wanted my father's business to succeed, I wanted that business to one day be mine. I also wanted to fix the mess-- excuse me, messes, I'd created. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't bring myself to want her. The perfect good girl that was always early, ordered a salad on every date, and never once uttered a curse.
It wasn't her fault that I was attracted to the bad girls. The ones that could knock three shots of vodka back without flinching. The ones that knew how to fuck you with their eyes before they ever fucked you between the sheets. Those girls, the bad and the broken, are the ones I'd always wanted. They screwed me over every time, tarnishing the family name over and over again, and still I couldn't help but want that type. Only that type.
"How was your day?"
Thank fuck the waiter stepped up to our table before I had to answer that boring question with an equally mundane answer.
"What can I get for you today?" He asked.
"A shot of vodka."
Toni shot me a look from across the table, her lips pursing until they became almost non-existent. "Honey, I don't think that's a good idea."
She was right, it was a dumb idea to drink out in public, but fuck, I needed it to take the edge off.
"I'll take some white wine," she told the waiter, smiling warmly back at him.
"Same for me." I forced through my teeth.
He hesitated, then nodded curtly.
"The moving date is tomorrow, isn't it?" Toni asked. She propped her elbow on the edge of the table, leaning in closer.
Tomorrow. Dammit, I'd been counting down the dreadful days one at a time. How could she not be doing the same? "Yes."
She nodded slowly, her dark blue eyes darting off to the windows overlooking the busy streets. "I had a key made for you."
I wasn't sure how to respond to that. Honestly, I was still trying to find a way around it. I liked my apartment, I wanted to keep it. Too many people knew my address, girls I'd had one night stands with, reporters, and so on. So I understood why it was in everyone's best interest that I move into Toni's condo. I just didn't want to. These dates were already unbearable, it was going to be torcher living together.
"Here," she slid the key across the table. "I, umm, I think we should go over some more details."
Trying to distract myself from that innocent doe-eyed look she had, I began spinning the key in circles. "Like what?"
"Well.. My best friend for one."
"Kaylee?"
She talked about her friend more than anything else. There was the subject of her passion, art museums, and her family, because I was expected to remember all of their names. She spoke of Kaylee more than all of them. It was usually minor details, stories about how they stayed up till two a.m. watching movies.
Sounded boring, if you asked me.
"Yes, Kaylee." She paused. "She likes to stop by unexpectedly, and she won't.. She won't buy this whole couple act if we aren't convincing."
"So we'll be convincing."
"We've been on seven dates and you haven't even kissed me yet," she said right as the waiter set our glasses on the table. She turned dark red.
"I'll be back to take your orders." He said casually.
I watched him leave, laughing quietly. "Six, actually. This is the seventh. It's not over yet, therefore it doesn't count."
She rolled her eyes-- it was about as much sass that I ever got from her. "I'm serious. If we don't up our game, she'll know."
My stomach churned at what I was about to do. I shrugged, forcing my facial muscles to remain indifferent. "So then let's kiss."
Her eyebrows turned downward. "Just like that?"
"What do you mean?"
She sighed impatiently, her heel making a rather loud clacking sound against the tiled floor. "That's not romantic. It shouldn't be done like that. When we kiss, it should be-"
"Okay," I held my hands up, sitting a little straighter. "Look, I know this isn't ideal. But I'm not a romantic. I never have been. If you want me to walk you up to your door and kiss you while you fiddle with your keys, I'll do that. But you have to tell me."
Disappointment flitted over her face. She nodded, pretending to understand when clearly she didn't.
That's another thing with Toni, she never speaks her mind. If something bothers her, nothing. If I say something crude that offends her, nothing. It's the equivalent of talking to a robot, just not as cool.
I didn't know how the fuck we were going to make this work.
"Okay. Kiss me."
Stunned into silence, I stared for a while longer than I should have. I was embarrassing her, right after instructing her to tell me when she wanted to me do something.
Asshole of the year award goes to--me.
I lean across the table and press my lips flush against hers.
She makes a sound like she's about to protest, then proceeds to move her mouth gently against mine.
It lacks the heat and intimacy that I want it to have. It's sloppy, the sloppiest kiss I've had since Junior High. We're two people with completely opposite rhythms, moving to a different beat.
This is never going to work.
But I have to keep trying.
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