8
“This is a little weird.” I have to admit, once we step inside a small deli a couple of blocks from the garage, where I insisted I leave my purchases. A plain paper bag is one thing, but what if somebody peeked inside? I would just about die on the spot.
Dash doesn’t get it since he’s not a mind reader. “You want to go somewhere else?”
He strikes me as a very sweet person, much sweeter than I would have figured, considering he likes to pay girls to have sex with him and his friends. “No, that’s not what I mean.” When he still looks at me like he doesn’t understand, I have to put words to my feelings. “Like, meeting up as two people. In the regular world.”
“Oh, right. Especially when you’re not used to moving in the same circles as we do.”
“Do you run into people from the club all the time?”
“Sometimes. But the rule of thumb is you go your way, I go mine. We might know each other, but we don’t know each other.”
“You approached me, didn’t you?”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Why don’t we sit down first?” To my horror, though, he heads toward an empty table by the front window.
I manage to grab his arm, shaking my head. “Can we sit a little farther away from the front window?”
“No offense taken.” But it’s clear he’s joking before he takes a left turn and heads toward the back, where a few tables are open.
“I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you.” The opposite is true. It’s kind of cool, knowing people here might think we’re on a date or something. He’s gorgeous and built like a brick shithouse—something my dad used to say. Now I understand what he meant.
I’m not exactly free to be seen. Especially not with a guy. When I think of what Adam would do if he saw me… no, I’d better not think about it, or else I won’t be able to eat anything.
We take our seats and grab menus from a holder on the table. The idea of a thick sandwich is enough to make my mouth water. How long has it been since I had a full meal?
A girl in a polo shirt and apron comes over. “What do you want to drink?” When Dash lifts his head to look up at her, the attitude changes. “Unless you need more time,” she adds in a softer voice. I mean, yeah, he’s hot. But she’s being kind of obvious about it.
He doesn’t seem to notice—or if he does, he’s probably so used to it by now, it doesn’t register. “Coke.” He then looks at me, brows lifted.
“Same,” I murmur. She nods before giving him one more look, then walks away. He checks out her ass for a second before turning back to me. I pretend not to notice. It’s not like I have any right to tell him not to check out a girl who looks like she would hump a hole in his jeans if he’d let her.
“To answer your question, if you see somebody from the club out in the world, you don’t mention where you know them from. Some people don’t want to be friendly at all, but some want to be.”
“Which one are you? Friendly, I guess.”
“No. I’m not trying to make friends outside of that part of my life.”
My mouth falls open. “Why am I here, then?”
“I already told you. I owe you one after not showing last night. I fucked up the arrangement.”
“It’s nice—” A crash from the kitchen makes me end my statement with a yelp. I jump a mile, too, and knock my menu on the floor.
“You okay?” Dash bends down to pick up the menu, looking concerned. The crash didn’t startle him the way it did me. I wonder if he’s asking himself why. I hope he doesn’t ask.
“I guess my nerves are shot.” He accepts the excuse before our drinks come. I haven’t yet chosen what I want to eat, so I skim the menu and ask for a turkey club and fries.
“I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?” He frowns, and I know he means it. “After everything that happened a couple of nights ago?”
“Not even close. You were so understanding.”
I can tell he’s relieved. “Did you have fun with Cassandra?”