Chapter 10
Ten
Amanda
I hate going to restaurants to eat by myself. It makes me feel uncomfortable. Even if it’s just Mia with me, her presence eases my anxiety, but tonight, I don’t have my daughter. My best friend and her husband stole her from me.
Okay, they didn’t steal her, but they insisted that Mia and Coral have a sleepover. So, here I am, a Saturday night, and I’m about to take myself to dinner.
And I’m nervous about it.
I considered pulling up the dating app I downloaded a few weeks ago, which I haven’t touched since.
It was a good idea at the time—at least, that’s what I told myself—but the trust just isn’t there.
I hope that one day I’ll feel ready. Until then, I need to get used to doing things on my own.
I can’t be the odd woman out when my friends and their husbands all get together.
That’s my life now. Honestly, that’s been my life since long before my divorce. When we’d been married, I’d made so many excuses.
He made me look like a fool.
Taking a deep breath, I pull open the restaurant door and wait for the hostess to greet the couple in front of me.
They’re holding hands and smiling, and I’m green with envy.
It’s been a long damn time since a man has looked at me like that.
Looking back, things had been different between Ethan and me for a long time; I was just too na?ve to see it.
I wanted our marriage to work, but it takes two and all that.
My heart is racing so hard I’m half convinced people walking past me can hear it.
The hostess and the couple in front of me surely can.
My palms are damp, and I subtly wipe them against my dress for the tenth time.
I don’t even know why I’m this nervous. I’m just having dinner.
Alone. Other people do it all the time. It’s not illegal.
It’s not tragic. It’s not a public declaration that I’ve failed at life.
So why does it feel like I’m about to step onto a stage with a spotlight aimed directly at me?
This is stupid. I could easily turn around, grab Chinese takeout, go home, kick off my heels, and binge some trashy reality show. That sounds safe. Comfortable. Free of judgment. No awkward glances from couples across candlelit tables. Yeah, that’s the better plan.
I pivot on my heel, fully committed to retreating to the safety of my couch and my comfy pajamas, when I slam straight into something solid.
Not something. Someone.
Hard.
Warm.
Immovable.
“Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry,” I blurt, heat flooding my cheeks instantly.
Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I can’t even make a graceful exit. I have to physically assault someone on my way out.
I keep my eyes down for half a second, mortified, fully aware of the strong hands around my arms, steadying me. The touch is firm but careful, grounding me before I can stumble back in my embarrassment.
“Mandy?”
I know that voice. It’s deep and familiar, but even if I didn’t, it would be the name that clued me in. My panic dissolves in a single breath. I lift my eyes slowly and stare into Will’s dark chocolate ones. For a second, I forget how to speak. Or breathe. Or exist like a normal human being.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his gaze sweeping over me, my face, my arms, down to my heels, like he’s checking for damage. The concern in his expression does something strange and warm in my chest. Something I can’t think about right now.
“Y-Yeah,” I stammer, mentally cursing my tongue for betraying me.
“I’m good.” I straighten to my full height, suddenly aware of how close we are.
How his hands are still on me. He seems to notice at the same time I do, because he drops them and takes a small step back. I miss the warmth immediately.
“Sorry.” I also take a small step back, as if putting space between us will make my brain start to fully function once again.
His brow furrows. “Are you meeting someone?” he asks, glancing around the entrance as if expecting a date to materialize out of thin air.
My stomach flips. Why does that question feel loaded?
“Uh, no,” I say too quickly. Smooth, Amanda. Real smooth. “I was going to eat here. But then I decided eating alone wasn’t really… appealing. So, I was leaving. And I wasn’t watching where I was going.” I gesture vaguely between us. “Clearly.”
I move to step around him, desperate to escape before I say anything else humiliating, but his arm shoots out, blocking my path. His palm lands against my stomach. Not roughly. Not possessively. Just there, anchoring me in place. I freeze. Hell, I’m not even sure if I’m breathing.
The moment narrows to the heat of his hand seeping through the thin fabric of my dress. My breath catches in my throat as our eyes lock. There’s something in his gaze, something soft, yet I can’t seem to name it in my current state.
“Stay,” he murmurs.
The word slides over my skin like a touch. One word. Four letters that feel monumental in some way, but I can’t explain how or why.
“Have dinner with me.”
The restaurant door swings open behind us, a chorus of voices and laughter filtering into the small space at the hostess station. Without breaking eye contact, he wraps his arm fully around my waist and gently guides me closer so people can pass.
He’s warm and solid, and my palms land on his chest, but I’m not sure if it’s to pull him closer or keep space between us. I can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. The heat radiating from him. The faint scent of his cologne, something clean, woodsy, and familiar.
“Oh, um, I don’t want to intrude,” I manage, though my voice comes out breathless and uncertain. My brain is screaming at me to run. To escape before I embarrass myself further. Before he sees exactly how much this proximity affects me.
He’s my best friend’s dad.
This man couldn’t be more off-limits, but for some reason, my body doesn’t seem to care about that.
In this moment, he’s just a man, one who smells incredible, with kind brown eyes and his firm body pressed to mine.
I should step away from him, put some much-needed distance between us, but my feet don’t move.
Because the truth is… I don’t want to leave.
Not anymore.
“Come on, Mandy.” He smiles, and heat rushes to my core. I try my hardest not to outwardly show my body’s reaction to him. “You’re not going to make me eat alone, are you?”
“You’re alone?” I ask. I thought for sure he was here for a date or with the other higher-ups from the Rampage, celebrating a successful draft. Sure, that was two weeks ago, but still, that’s where my mind took me.
He shakes his head. “Not anymore. I have you.”
“A-Are you sure?”
“Welcome, how many in your party?” the hostess asks.
Will keeps his arm woven tightly around my waist, but slowly moves us forward. I follow without complaint. “Two, please.” He smiles kindly.
“Of course. Right this way.” She grabs two menus, some wrapped silverware, and motions for us to follow her.
Will moves his hand to the small of my back, and then, we’re on the move. He stays right behind me, his hand a solid presence, the heat of his palm seeping through the thin fabric of my dress. When we reach the booth, he guides me to sit before sliding into the space across from me and smiling.
“Your server will be right with you,” the hostess says, before turning to head back to her post.
“Where is Miss Mia tonight?” Will asks, picking up his menu.
“Bellamy called and said Coral demanded a sleepover. I didn’t have a good excuse to say no, other than losing my mind being in my condo all alone. So, I ventured out for dinner, and yeah, you saw how that turned out.” I laugh nervously.
“Ah.” He nods. “Coral can be very demanding.” He winks, and heat rushes to my core.
What the hell is wrong with me?
No, I cannot let this happen. No. Just no.
“It was more her mom than her, but she’s learning from the best.” I smile, thinking about my best friend. Then I remember that not thirty seconds before, I was perving on her dad.
Damn, I’m a mess.
“What sounds good to you?” Will asks, nodding toward the menu that’s still sitting in front of me on the table, untouched.
“Chicken tenders, honey mustard, loaded baked potato, side salad with ranch,” I rattle off my usual order.
“No steak? We are at a steakhouse.” He chuckles.
I wrinkle my nose. “I’m not much of a steak eater. I mean, if I have to work that hard to eat my food, it’s not worth it.”
Will tosses his head back in laughter. “Babe, you’ve never had a well-prepared steak. This place does a phenomenal job. You can taste mine,” he tells me.
Babe.
Did he say that I could taste him?
“Trust me, you’ll change your mind,” he says, pulling me back to the conversation.
“Hi, I’m Todd. I’ll be your server. Do you want to start off with drinks?” he asks, rambling off the night’s drink special.
“Mandy?” Will defaults to me to order first.
“I’ll have a sweet tea, please.”
“And for you, sir?” Todd asks.
“The same. We’re also ready to order, if that’s okay.”
“Perfect.” Todd smiles and turns his gaze back to me. I rattle off my order word for word, as I did for Will. “And for you?” Todd asks Will.
“Ribeye, well-done, loaded baked potato, salad with ranch, as well. And go ahead and give us an order of pretzel bites,” Will says, handing Todd his menu. I rush to close mine, which is still sitting open on the table, and do the same.
“Their pretzel bites are so good. Mia loves them.”
“Does she? We’ll have to bring her back here sometime. They’re not as good when heated up. Ask me how I know,” he says, with a smile.
“They’re not,” I agree.
“How’s the car?” he asks as Todd drops off our drinks and quickly moves on.
“Good. It actually drives better,” I tell him. “I know that sounds weird, but it does.”
He smirks almost as if he has a secret. “I’m glad,” he answers.
“How was the draft?”
He nods, taking a drink of his tea. “We’ve brought some incredible new talent to the team. It’s gonna be another great season.”