Chapter 7
MATEO
“Alessandro’s.” Emmie gave the building a curious look. We both drove here separately from the rink.
“Best pizza in town. You know it?” I asked.
“I was here the same day you ran into me.”
“Actually, you ran into me.” I grabbed the door handle, opened it, and stepped back, gesturing for her to go in first.
Emmie scoffed. “You took up half the sidewalk, of course I ran into you.”
“I apologized,” I shot back.
Emmie slipped past me, the smell of sweet, ripe peaches hitting my nose. “And you ran into me again at the practice facility.”
“Again, that was you.” She sent me a look over her shoulder as we entered the restaurant. If it was meant to be intimidating, it failed. All it did was make me want to annoy her more just so I could have that look given to me again.
I faked gasped. It was loud enough to draw the attention of a few people sitting near the doors. “You’re so mean to me.”
“Mateo,” Emmie hissed, spinning around to slap my arm, her cheeks pink.
“What?” I asked innocently, a wide grin on my face.
She glanced at the people who slowly went back to what they were doing before. A few still lingered as if they couldn’t quite place who I was.
“People are going to think I hit you all the time.”
“I mean, you just did.” I playfully held my arm as if she actually hurt me.
“Social anxiety has nothing on you, does it?” Emmie turned back around as the hostess made her way toward us.
“Nope.” I rarely got embarrassed in public, and there had only been a few times I’d felt overwhelmed by the amount of fans surrounding me, but for the most part, I didn’t care.
As the hostess led us to a booth, I gently placed my hand on the small of Emmie’s back as she walked in front of me. A couple of sets of eyes followed us, but I paid them no mind.
Thanking the lady, I took a seat across from Emmie in the booth. My knees knocked against hers under the table, the limited space making it hard to maneuver my long legs.
While Emmie grabbed the menu, looking it over, I took her in. Her red hair was pulled into a messy bun, a few curled pieces falling around her face. I didn’t see an ounce of makeup on her, which made her freckles stand out against her pale skin. She was beautiful.
My eyes dipped down to her lips. The top one was a tad bit fuller than the bottom and the most perfect shade of pink. My mind instantly conjured up the image of what they’d look like after I bit them. Would they look bruised from desire?
“You’re staring,” Emmie remarked, setting her menu down and leveling a look at me.
“I am.” I didn’t bother denying it. I leaned back and put my arms over the back of the seat. “You can stare at me too if you want.”
“And why would I do that?” she asked, but I saw her eyes linger for a split second on my arms where my pullover was pulled tight. I flexed on purpose.
“Might as well enjoy what’s in front of you.”
Emmie’s head tilted to the side. “You’re cocky, you know that?”
“I like to call it confidence.”
“Sure.” Her lips threatened to break into a smile. I made a silent vow to myself that I would get her smile one way or another.
“What do you usually get here?” I asked.
“Pizza, obviously.”
I shot her a no-shit look to which she smirked in response.
“I get the mushroom and banana pepper pizza.”
“Not a pineapple on pizza kind of girl?” I questioned. It wasn’t necessarily a make-or-break thing for me, but it was definitely a choice.
“Who do you take me for?” Emmie scrunched her nose up. “No, thank you.”
“I knew I liked you. My sister-in-law loves pineapple on hers.” I shook my head like it was a travesty.
When the waitress came by a second later, I gestured for Emmie to order first. Once it was my turn, I told her my order, ignoring the way she was staring at me.
It was subtle, but I noticed the way she shifted closer to my side of the booth, hip cocked out as her eyes roamed what parts she could see.
I was used to the staring and the hints from women, but it still made things awkward and uncomfortable especially when I had someone I was interested in across from me.
Emmie leaned back, arms crossed, eyes bouncing back and forth between the waitress and me.
I couldn’t tell if she was amused or not.
The few women I’d been with over the years used to get pissed at the attention I would get from others when we were out. I never indulged in it, but it typically became the reason we never made it past a few dates.
As the waitress opened her mouth, probably to say something flirty, I grabbed our menus and held them out for her to take. “Thank you.”
The waitress made a small noise but left to put our order in—thankfully.
When I looked back at Emmie, she was smirking. “Well, aren’t you a ladies man.”
“Yeah.” I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling that familiar twinge of discomfort when others witnessed the blatant flirting. “That happens a lot.”
She must have seen something in my expression that sobered her. A look I couldn’t decipher crossed her face. Sympathy? Curiosity?
“Sorry, I bet that gets a bit frustrating and annoying.”
“It can be.” I shrugged. “You get used to it.” It wasn't like I could change the amount of attention I got.
“Just because you’re used to it, doesn’t mean you should be. Yes, you play a sport and are good at it, but it doesn’t give people the right to make you uncomfortable.”
There was a bite to her tone that made my eyebrows raise. Emmie was defending me, but there was something in her expression that told me she knew where I was coming from. My intrigue grew. Who was she exactly?
Back at the rink, I noticed the way she hesitated to answer when I asked what she did for a living. A hesitation that only came when you were unsure how someone would respond. I’d been there with my brother's career as well as my own.
There was more to Emmie, and I was curious to learn what she was hiding.
“So,” I brought my arms down on the table and leaned forward, “want to play a small game of Two Truths and a Lie?”
I didn’t want to straight-up ask her questions that would force her to be vulnerable, so a little game couldn’t hurt to break the ice.
“Are we at a sleepover?” Emmie gave the restaurant a pointed look.
“Come on, don’t be a wuss.” The flare of competitiveness in her eyes told me I had her. She was an athlete. She wasn’t about to back down from something, even if it was a stupid game.
“Fine, I’ll go first.”
Fighting a smile, I nodded for her to go ahead, clasping my hands in front of me. I could practically see the gears in her head working to come up with answers.
“I’ve swam with sharks, I’m a natural blonde, and I’m allergic to oranges.” Emmie kept her face straight as she spoke.
I took a second to think over her answers, although I already knew the lie. Allergic to oranges. I made a mental note to remember that.
“You are not a natural blonde.” There was no way she dyed that beautiful hair of hers. Plus, the freckles were a bit of a giveaway she was a natural redhead.
“That was my lie.”
“Swimming with sharks is pretty bad ass, though. My brother has always wanted to.”
“I was in Florida on vacation with my friend, and we saw a flyer at our hotel about doing it, thought why not. Although, my friend screamed the whole time and wouldn’t get in the water.” Emmie laughed under her breath.
“I’d never do it.” I shuddered at the idea of being in a cage with a shark on the other side.
“Now who’s a wuss?” Emmie smirked.
“I have no shame in admitting that.” I’d gladly take the title.
“Your turn.”
I hummed. “Okay. I have never cried during a movie. I hate all things pistachio. I once got in trouble for standing up in class to sing Celine Dion.”
“That last one is definitely true. You seem like the type to do that,” Emmie mused. I said nothing as she continued. “I’m going to say your lie is…never cried during a movie.”
“Correct. I bawled during Big Hero 6.”
Emmie’s eyebrows shot up. “Big Hero 6?” She said it like she didn’t believe me.
“Only a monster doesn’t cry when Tadashi dies.”
“Never seen it.”
The gasp that left my mouth was anything but fake. “Are you serious?”
She shrugged, taking a sip of her water. “I haven’t had time to watch a lot of movies.”
“Yeah, well, we need to fix that.” The words slipped free before I could stop them. I wasn’t sure I would see Emmie again after today, let alone get her to watch Big Hero 6 with me. I wanted to see her again, not just from running into each other, but I wasn’t going to get ahead of myself.
“Your turn,” I said, brushing past my comment.
We played a few more rounds as we waited for our food. Each little truth I learned about Emmie, I filed away in my mind.
“You’re such a liar.”
“I’m being honest.”
“You’re telling me you still sleep with a stuffed animal?” Emmie’s eyebrows were up near her hairline as she guessed the wrong lie.
“I do. Keith the Elephant and I have been together since I was little.”
Emmie snorted. “Keith.”
“Don’t judge him.” I playfully narrowed my eyes at her. “It’s perfectly acceptable to still have your childhood stuffed animal.”
“Well…”
Before I could answer, our waitress appeared beside our table with our pizzas. She barely sat them down in front of us when Emmie spoke.
“That’ll be all for now. Please don’t come back until we’re finished.” Her tone was less than friendly, not even sparing the waitress a glance as she reached for a slice. I choked back a laugh at the casual way she said it.
Without a word, the waitress turned on her heel and stomped off. A part of me wanted to go and apologize, but it felt surprisingly nice having someone stick up for me, even in just a small way.
Unsure of what to say, I decided to leave it alone and grabbed a slice of my own pizza. Like usual, my steak, onions, and banana pepper pizza was to die for. Across from me, Emmie hummed as she ate.
Her upper body did a little shake as if she couldn’t control it. I smiled as I took another bite, watching her enjoy her food. She was adorable. As if sensing my eyes on her, her gaze snapped to mine.
“What?” she asked around a mouthful of cheese and dough.
I swallowed my bite before answering. “You make cute noises when you eat.”
“No, I don’t.” A flush of pink creeped up her neck.
“You do but it’s cute.”
“I… Shut up,” she mumbled, going back to her slice. I just grinned and let her be.
We ate in silence, content with eating our food without having to say anything. It was nice not having to make idle conversation. To just sit here and enjoy someone else’s company without worrying what they were really after.
I didn’t know much about Emmie, but I knew enough that she didn’t care who I was. In fact, she seemed to almost not like me because of what I did. It made me wonder if she had something against football players or all athletes.
There was so much more to Emmie that I wanted to learn. What got her into figure skating? How did she take her coffee in the morning? Was she the type that had to have something sweet while watching TV?
I didn’t think I ever wanted to get to know someone as intensely. Like my friends said, I didn’t do relationships, but sitting here across from Emmie, I wanted more than just one little lunch.
What the hell was going on with me?
“So,” Emmie started after all but a few pieces of pizza were gone.
“So,” I echoed.
“What now?”
“If you’re wanting to come back to my place just know I don’t put out on the first date.”
Emmie glared while I smirked.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?” I asked. She opened her mouth to respond but snapped it shut when a different waitress came up to our table with the bill. I didn’t hesitate to hand over my credit card.
Emmie eyed it before continuing. “I meant, what are we doing now? After this?”
“Ah, dessert.”
“No.” Emmie shook her head. “Are we doing this again?”
I leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Depends. You buying next time?”
“Not a chance.” This time it was Emmie who grinned wide.
“It’s up to you whether you want to see me again or not. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I’ll live with the heartbreak.” I sighed dramatically.
“Are you sure you’re not a soap actor?”
“I really should have been,” I joked before turning serious. “I meant what I said, Emmie. If you don’t want to see me again, I get it. But if you do…I’ll be here.”