Hate Sober (Love Me Duet 2)

We sit and the waiter brings out glasses of champagne, followed by our food.

I smile at the butter chicken and naan bread that is placed before me.

“You listened.”

“Of course.” He looks around, then back to me. “This is not where I would have chosen.”

“And where would you choose?”

He leans in. “My house. In my room. You naked on our bed while I feed you.”

I cross my legs tighter together.

He can’t say things like that.

It does all sorts of things to me.

“But this, this will do. It’s what you like, and, believe it or not, I enjoy it as well.”

We start eating and he asks me about my day and my hours at the café. I’ve been working more lately, trying to keep my head busy and distracted. It’s helped. He tells me about his real estate business, and when he speaks about it, he glows brightly. You can clearly tell he loves what he does.

We finish our meal but stay a little longer and have another drink.

“I’m sorry, Everly, for what he did.”

I freeze at his words. I didn’t think he would bring it up, and my hand goes to my stomach. He sees the action and shakes his head.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It wasn’t your fault, it was his.”

He nods. “It was me he wanted to hurt…”

“And he knew by hurting me it would hurt you,” I say, finishing his sentence.

“I’m sorry.”

“We need to change the subject. I don’t blame you for his actions, Gunner. And, frankly, it’s not something I want to remember. So, I’m sorry, but can we not speak of this again?”

He simply nods his head.

End of discussion.

31

Everly

Our date ended without a kiss, even though I wanted one, I wasn’t going to be the first one to make the move. It was nice, casual, as if we weren’t people from a messy past. We were more like two strangers meeting for dinner.

Personally, I can’t wait to do it again.

* * *

I can’t stop thinking about you. Say yes to lunch?

* * *

I smile down at my cell and his text message.

* * *

At my work? Sure.

* * *

He replies straight away.

* * *

Be there in ten.

* * *

And he is. He arrives at the café exactly ten minutes later. When he walks in, I watch as people stop to stare his way. Fuck, I do too. He has that air about him. Something that just draws you in like a moth to a flame. When he walks up to me, he leans in and ever so softly kisses my cheek. I’m sure I’m blushing, but I can’t help it. I’m highly attracted to him, and I think I’m falling even more in love with him.

And that little fact scares the shit out of me.

I invite him into my office where I’ve already laid out a few sandwiches and cakes, plus two coffees for us. He looks surprised, but doesn’t comment as he takes the seat across from me.

“Twenty-four hours is a long time not to see you,” he says, his lip twitching at his words.

“Is it?” I ask, and he nods.

“Is it too soon to say that I love you more now? Now that I feel I’m getting to know you better?”

“No, I like to hear that.”

“Well, technically, this is our third date.” He picks up a small sandwich and eats it, and I laugh at him.

“You’re counting me getting trashed as our first date?”

“Of course. I had so much fun watching you trying to beat yourself in Monopoly. I even got a sleepover out of it…” He pauses. “How are you sleeping?”

“Better, thanks.”

“I sleep better when you’re near. It’s one of the things that pushed me to have you in the house so fast.” His revelation surprises me. Gunner doesn’t drop bombshells like that, he’s usually calm and calculated about what he reveals.

“I sleep better with you as well.”

“Is it too soon to ask you out again?” He leans in close. “I’m fast becoming addicted.”

I laugh at his words. “No. You can ask. But whether I agree is a different story.” I wink at him.

“Why didn’t we start off like this?” he murmurs. “How come I never saw us like this?”

I don’t want to tell him it’s because of him, because it was also my fault. I could have chosen to take it slow as well, but I didn’t. I grabbed hold of that surfboard and dove so deep into those waves I couldn’t get any air.

The fucked-up part, I liked it in a way.

“Don’t answer that,” he says, shaking his head. “New start, right?” Gunner runs a hand through his hair, and I remember what it’s like to do that to him. I want to do that to him now, climb on his lap, take his lips, and run my hands through his hair. Instead, I cross my legs over one another and smile.