Chapter Five #2
She doesn't even glance at it before her gaze comes to mine, mischief written into every line of her perfect body.
"What's the most expensive thing on your menu?" she asks the waiter.
"Uh…" His gaze drifts to me.
"Don't look at me," I mutter, shaking my head. "I didn't ask the question."
"That would be our Japanese Wagyu, ma'am," he murmurs to her. "It's a prime cut of beef."
"Excellent. I'll take the same thing he ordered," she says, pointing at me with a smile. "And then we'll have ten of those to go."
I choke on my water.
"Ten, ma'am?"
"Yes, ten." She bats her lashes at him. "The homeless in this city deserve delicious, expensive food sometimes, too, don't you think?"
"Uh…"
"Just take the order," I mutter to the confused man, chuckling. "Trust me. It'll save you time."
"Yes, sir," he sighs, bowing slightly before gathering our menus and hurrying away like he's afraid to stick around and see what else she might request of him.
"Proud of yourself, princess?" I ask, sitting back on the banquette with a smirk.
"Very." She grins at me. "Who knew spending your money could be so much fun?"
I chuckle, shaking my head at her. Christ, she's something else. "So…I take it we're feeding the homeless when we leave here?"
"Obviously." She meets my gaze, challenging. "Unless that's a problem for you."
I just smile in response, not bothering to tell her that I run a soup kitchen. Why spoil her fun? If she wants to pass out Waygu beef, fuck it. We'll pass out Waygu beef.
"Holy shit," she mumbles, her eyes wide after taking the first bite of her steak. "This is good."
"I know."
"Cocky."
"It's not like I cooked it, Serena."
"You're still cocky."
"You would know. You had your hands all over him."
She splutters, her cheeks turning pink again. "We're not talking about my public humiliation tonight, Austin."
"Fine, then tell me something about you."
"What do you want to know?"
"How did you end up in one of the most expensive cities in the United States?"
"I ran away."
I blink, not entirely sure if she's fucking with me or not. With her, it's hard to tell.
"My parents are…well, they're something," she mutters. "I decided it was better to have the entire continental United States between us."
"You don't get along?"
She shrugs one shoulder, avoiding my gaze. "I think you have to notice someone is human to get along."
Fuck.
"They ignore you?"
"I wish."
"Explain."
"They pay plenty of attention to me." She grimaces, pushing fingerling potatoes around on her plate. "The same way you pay attention to a grenade you can lob at the other side in a war."
Well, fuck.
"They hate each other," she murmurs quietly. "And I've always been the thing they used to hurt the other."
"Jesus, baby." I reach across the table for her hand, squeezing her fingers. "That's fucked. I'm sorry."
She shrugs again, one corner of her lips quirking up. "I'm used to it. But I decided it was better to put a little distance between us than to spend the rest of my life being the rope in their tug-of-war."
"Yeah, I get that."
"You do?"
"I mean, I don't get that," I mutter, not wanting to pretend I know what it's like when I don't. "My parents have always been madly in love. I just mean…I can understand why you'd want to do your own thing and let them work it out for themselves."
"Want to know a secret?"
"I want to know all of your secrets," I say, completely serious.
"They're the reason I didn't want to go out with you," she says, her voice soft. "You're a big enough pain in my ass already."
"You scared you're going to fall for me, Serena?"
"What? No." She scowls at me.
I just smirk at her, my heart thudding against my ribcage, because yeah, that's exactly what she's afraid of, even if she won't admit it. She likes me more than she wants to admit. And that scares the hell out of her. Christ, her parents really did a number on her.
That's all right, though. I've got the time and patience to undo it and show her that relationships don't have to end that way. They don't have to be war zones and battlefields. They can be a soft place to land.
"My parents married young," I murmur. "They were still in college when they had me. They've been crazy about one another since the day they met. Everything I know about relationships, I learned from them."
"Says the man who swore off love," she says, taking a sip of her wine.
"I didn't swear it off," I protest. "I just saved myself a little frustration."
"Uh, I'm pretty sure it was your face plastered all over the gossip sites last week, with headlines saying that you were never falling in love."
"They misquoted me. I said I'm focused on the game, not on a relationship," I correct. "I didn't say I'd never fall."
"Semantics."
"I'll show you semantics."
She grins at me, her eyes light. "So, you just want casual flings, not a relationship."
"Fuck no." I pin her with my gaze, letting the words hang between us.
She's unsteady on the other side of the table, her wine glass trembling a little in her hand.
"Just so we're clear, this isn't casual, princess. You and I—" I tap the table for emphasis, then point between us, "—are endgame. Not a hookup, not a distraction. I'm just patient enough to wait until you're caught up to me."
She goes still, her fingers tightening around her fork. She doesn't look away, but something in her eyes darkens—panic, maybe, or self-preservation.
A long silence settles between us, heavy and a little electric.
I know I'm pushing too fast, but I can't help myself. She's it for me. The second I met her, I knew it, the way you know the fuse is lit, and the explosion is coming. Matter of time.
She finally finds her voice, barely more than a whisper. "Austin…"
I back off, just a little. I don't want her running for the door, not when I've barely started. "No pressure, baby. Just…figured you should know where I stand."
She drops her gaze, stabbing at another potato. "You're a madman."
"Yeah, mad about you."
She doesn't answer, but a tiny smile flickers at her lips.
It's enough. For now.