Chapter 9 Ethan #3
Like I said, adorable and dorky and—
A car horn blared, and I swore as I realized I’d zoned out at the worst possible time.
Nothing made people road rage like trying to leave a sporting event, and my dumb ass had left a gap on a left turn.
I just managed to squeak through, as did the car behind me, and a middle finger flew.
The people still sitting in the turn lane were probably putting hexes on me.
My face burned as I continued following traffic. “Uh. Whoops.”
Jake laughed softly. “Happens to the best of us.”
I flicked my gaze toward him, and I was met with a sweet smile that almost made me forget to drive again.
As I followed the road back toward his apartment, I asked, “So, did you enjoy the game?”
“Yeah. I did.” He paused. “I, um… I enjoyed the rest of it, too.”
“The rest of—what do you mean?”
“The, uh… ” He cleared his throat. “The part where we were there on… ”
I gulped. “On a date?”
“Yeah. That.” The seat creaked a little, giving him away as he fidgeted. “I’ve never gone out with a guy. Like that. On a date, I mean.”
“Oh.” I adjusted my hands on the wheel so I wasn’t holding it in a death grip anymore. “But you’ve… You’ve been with guys? You just haven’t, uh, dated them?”
“Basically,” he admitted shyly. “So it was, um… new.” He hesitated. “But I liked it. A lot.”
My heart was suddenly slamming into my ribs, and I was irrationally sure he’d be able to hear it. “Me too.” I stole another glance at him. “Would you, um… Would you want to do it again?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe, um… ” He paused, then laughed self-consciously.
“I was going to suggest going to a fight, but that’s not really romantic.
Or… I mean, I don’t know if that’s what we’re going for—romantic—but it’s not really a date thing, you know?
I… ” He laughed again. “God, I’m so bad at this. ”
The words brought my anxiety down several notches. Shit, I wasn’t the only one who was nervous tonight, was I? I’d been so wound up, I’d forgotten this was all new to him.
“A fight would be… ” I shifted in my seat. “I’ve never been to one. It sounds like it could be fun.” I glanced at him again, finding an interested but mildly terrified expression on his face. “Or we can do something quieter. Dinner? A movie? I, uh… I’m not very good at this either.”
His quiet laugh was full of relief. “You’ve got more experience than I do.”
“And there are hockey players who’ve been playing for decades and still suck at it. Experience only goes so far.”
He chuckled. “Okay, good point. So I guess we can fumble through it and be bad at it together?”
“I can work with that.”
We exchanged grins, and oh, man—couldn’t our next date be like, now? It was late, but this was Vegas. We could find something that was open.
But I had practice tomorrow morning, and Jake had to be at his gym. I didn’t know how early he had to be there, only that he’d definitely be there at—
I tensed. “We, um… I have a lesson tomorrow. With you.”
“You do, yeah.” He paused, and I could feel him watching me. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” I laughed nervously. “But… I mean, are there any rules? About dating clients?”
“If there were, I wouldn’t have agreed to a double date with Carson.”
“Oh. Oh. Right.” I laughed again, sounding even more nervous now. “Good point. So we’re, uh, still on for tomorrow, then?”
“You’re the client,” he whispered. “You tell me.”
I looked at him, and heat rushed through me. Yeah, we were just talking about my fighting lesson, but it meant being in the same space as him. Seeing him in shorts and a tank top, all ripped and inked and smoking hot.
“Yeah,” I rasped. “We’re still on.”
I wondered if he really looked as relieved as I felt, or if I was just imaging it.
A few minutes later, I pulled up in front of his apartment building.
I put the car in Park, and as the engine idled, I turned to him, pretending my heart wasn’t going nuts all over again.
“So, uh. I’ll see you tomorrow, then? And we can figure out our next…
” I gestured around us as if my car somehow symbolized us going out again. God, I was stupid.
Unaware of what an idiot I was—or at least politely pretending not to notice—Jake smiled. “I’m looking forward to it. The lesson, and, um… ” He swallowed. “The rest.”
“Me too.”
We locked eyes, and neither of us spoke.
I wasn’t sure what to say. I knew what I wanted to say, but “say the word and I’ll blow you right here in the car” seemed a bit fast for a first date.
Or, well, a first date with a man who was still tiptoeing into an unexplored side of his sexuality.
I was probably better off following his lead for the time being.
I was about to tell him good night and that I’d see him tomorrow, but he started talking. And he started talking fast.
“Listen, I don’t… I don’t know how this works. If it’s different with guys, or if it’s different with you and me, or—” He sighed and waved his hand, squirming in the passenger seat. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I just… I just know I’ve wanted to kiss you since you picked me up tonight.”
I almost choked on air. “You have?”
“Yeah.” He met my gaze, his features taut with uncertainty. “I have no idea what counts as too fast or too much or—”
He stopped talking when I kissed him.