Chapter Seven
James
I strode into Blackmore’s, one of Miami’s best new restaurants, wearing my favorite suit and a shit-eating grin. The owner was a friend of a teammate, and she didn’t hide the fact that she was a fan.
“It’s such an honor to host you, Mr. Skye. Please, follow Monty to your private dining room.” I had requested a table with privacy when I’d made the reservation for Ryder and I so that we wouldn’t be mobbed by fans all night long. I hadn’t thought that “a table with a modicum of privacy” would have turned into a private dining room.
Hells yeah. Guess who’s arrived? I silently cheered.
I settled at the table in the private dining room. It was decorated like an intimate library, which I thought Gabrielle might appreciate.
Because you know her so well. I shut up the snide voice in my head good and tight. I actually looked forward to this dinner. From what little I did know about her, she seemed like fun. She was sassy. I liked that.
Richard would not be happy if he ever found out. Especially since he’d specifically warned me to stay away from her. I almost felt bad about it. He’d been really good to me.
Fuck it.
Gabrielle was hot. Like, come in your pants hot. Not that it had ever happened to me, but she was the kind of hot that made you realize that the struggle was real. It wasn’t like I was asking her to marry me behind his back. I was just buying her some food. Besides, he’d always liked me.
“May I bring you anything, Mr. Skye?” a bright-eyed waitress asked. She was obviously a fan but had the good sense to keep it to herself.
“I’m okay for now. My dinner companion should be arriving—”
Gabrielle pushed through the door as if the mention of her had summoned her. She looked fucking beautiful. She’d changed since I’d seen her last, and while I’d thought she’d been sexy in her casual clothes, she was downright devastating dressed up.
Her hair was twisted into an elegant bun at the side of her head, and her delectable body was wrapped in a cocktail dress that matched the color of her navy eyes almost exactly.
My cock twitched in appreciation.
“You eat in private rooms?” She barely managed to veil her condescension.
“No, but the teammate who canceled knows the owner. She thought that he might enjoy it.”
“Okay.” She smiled. It was an easy grin that brightened her eyes in a way that I hadn’t seen in anyone for the longest time. “So, what’s good here? I’m starving.”
Wait, she was actually going to eat in front of me?
Most of my dates ordered food only to take one or two bites and push their food around the plates. Gabrielle, on the other hand, studied the menu like she was so hungry that she actually considered eating it and not only the food it advertised. It fascinated me.
“Are you ready to order?” A server appeared at the table, tapping some sort of electronic pad.
“I am,” Gabrielle confirmed. “How about you?”
I cleared my throat. “Sure, what are you having?”
“The fileto al tegamino for me, please.” She smiled as she handed the menu to the waiter.
She had ordered my favorite dish. I tried not to look incredulous as I repeated her order. “Steak medium rare for me.”
“Of course, Mr. Skye.” She gave a slight bow and left us alone.
The sudden silence in the room was deafening.
Gabrielle studied me with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. Then she smirked. “Not creative enough to come up with your own order?”
She was teasing me. It took me a second to recognize it. It had been years since a girl just had innocent banter with me.
Women always wanted something from me, mostly ‘balls deep Skye.’ Gabrielle didn’t even seem to be thinking about it. “I’m plenty creative,” I said. “It just so happens that I love that steak, and they don’t have it at a lot of places.”
“Tell me about it.” She became animated as she outlined the struggle I was all too familiar with. “I mean, is it that difficult to chuck some garlic and white wine and herbs into a pot and drizzle it over a piece of meat. I don’t know why most places just serve the usual crap, and so few restaurants bother with that kind of perfection.”
“I feel your pain.” I curled a hand into a fist and tapped at my heart. “I order it whenever I have the chance. I just hope this chef doesn’t fuck it up. I had one a couple of weeks ago, and it came without garlic. Can you believe that?”
Gabrielle’s jaw dropped in genuine indignation. It was adorable. “Sacrilege! I hope you mentioned that they should change the menu to read steak with white wine and herbs. I mean, come on.”
“I might have made a bit more of a scene than that. I am a spoiled football player, after all.” I teased her. I sensed she had an ax to grind with people in my profession, especially after that snark about the blowjob.
She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t completely hide the smile that formed on her full lips. “Of course you are. Tell me, though. Is there more to you than just that?”
The question surprised me more than I let on. I took a sip of wine as I tried to formulate an answer. I wasn’t used to women being quite this direct. Not when it came me, anyway. Propositioning me, sure. Getting to know me, no way.
“I’d like to think so, though I’m not exactly sure what you mean by ‘just that.’” It was Gabrielle’s turn to be surprised, though she didn’t manage to hide it quite as well as I did.
“I honestly did not expect you to answer like that,” she confessed. “I was actually kind of sure you were going to make some perverted comment about how much more of you there was and if I’d like to see it.”
Again with the directness. I was kind of digging it. I felt sorry for whatever poor schmuck had tried those kind of lines with her. “Seriously?” I asked. “Which players have you been hanging out with? Please tell me so that I can rub their lack of game in their faces.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I, uh, haven’t actually hung out with any of you myself, but I’ve heard the stories.”
“Wait, so you have this whole condescension thing going towards anyone who plays football based on stories you’ve heard?” I cocked a brow as I teased her. “I mean, fine. Some of the guys use lines like that, but it’s not like only football players do it. Or only men.”
I neglected to mention that I’d used those kinds of lines myself, or that they actually worked most of the time. I had no doubt it wouldn’t work on a girl like her, but not all women were like her. I hadn’t actually met one like her before, not that I could remember. And I have a great memory.
She mulled over my words, the flush on her cheeks deepening. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I guess there are lots of men, and women, out there who operate like that.”
“You’re giving up your assumptions that easily?” It was hard to believe. Everything I’d seen from her so far had pointed to a seriously stubborn, headstrong woman.
She met my gaze and held it. The flickering from the candle on the table reflected in her eyes, making it look like ocean waves rolled in them. It was intriguing. Almost as intriguing as the fact that she wasn’t succumbing to my charm and was actually engaging in real conversation with me.
“I’m a big enough person to admit when I’ve made a mistake. I may have miscalculated. With you, at least. I’m not letting go of my assumptions altogether.” She smiled, then clapped her hands together in delight as the server entered the room and set our sizzling plates down on the table.
The heavenly aroma filled the room in a way that made my taste buds tingle. I had lived off shitty meals, fast food, and health shakes for long enough to appreciate good food. It was one of the reasons why I paid Mrs. W. as well as I did.
Gabrielle tucked into her meal with gusto. It surprised me from a girl with a body like hers, but her eyes actually sparkled. Then, she moaned when she took her first bite.
The moan shot like a bolt of lightning straight to my cock.
Down boy.
We were both quiet as we ate, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was comfortable, like we’d done it a million times before. It was kind of weird how easy things were with her. I’d never been in a serious relationship, but being with Gabrielle was how I imagined it would feel to sit down with a girlfriend, or God forbid, a wife.
Now that was one thing I never intended to do. Just the thought of marriage made me shudder. Nope, not for me. Harper was my happily ever after. Settling down with a girl like her mother was my darkest nightmare.
I briefly wondered if I should tell Gabrielle about Harper, but I decided against it. I’d known her all of a couple of days, and we weren’t even on a date, not really.
“That was amazing,” Gabrielle exclaimed when the server removed our plates. She twirled the stem of her wine glass between her thumb and forefinger, pausing to take a long sip.
“It was. They even remembered the garlic.” I smirked. “Probably only to avoid your wrath if they dared forget it.”
“Oh, ha!” she replied dryly. “I wasn’t the one who threw that tantrum, remember? Speaking of which, you never answered my question properly. What more is there to you?”
She leaned back in her chair and seemed to really listen to my answer, interrupting every now and then to ask another question or throw in a witty comment. We talked for hours, until the server came to tell us it was last call and they would be closing soon. I glanced down at my watch. It was nearly midnight.
Where the hell had the time gone?
Gabrielle stifled a yawn as she realized the time, but her eyes were still alert. We’d polished off the bottle of wine, but she didn’t look like she was even slightly tipsy. It seemed she could handle her liquor as well as I could. It was a welcome change.
“We should probably get going,” she said hesitantly, almost regrettably. “You know, my dad would kill us if he found out we’d had dinner. And that dinner had kept us out this late.”
“Yeah, let’s go. And I don’t think he’d kill us. He’s always liked me.” I settled the check, despite Gabrielle’s protests that she could pay for herself, and held the door for her, watching the sway of her hips for a second before following her into the main dining room.
Most of the tables had cleared, but there were a couple of people still hanging around. Gabrielle came to a complete stop ahead of me, her eyes fixed on a familiar blond man with his back towards us.
“Shit,” she breathed and took a few steps back. Right into my chest. I reached a hand out to steady her as I searched out an escape route that wouldn’t involve passing Richard, who was settling his check at the front desk. It didn’t seem like the right time to find out what his feelings about our dinner actually were.
I grasped Gabrielle’s hand and pulled her through a door nearby marked “staff only.” The owner didn’t bat an eye as I explained that we needed an alternative exit. She led us through the kitchen to the service entrance and waved us out.
“Thank you for a lovely evening,” I told the owner. “Everything was great. I’ll definitely recommend this place.” We stepped into a dark alley off the side of the restaurant.
“Much appreciated, Mr. Skye. Don’t be a stranger.” She let the door swing closed behind her, and I could see her hurrying back to the kitchen through a foggy window in the door.
Gabrielle crashed into my side, shaking uncontrollably.
Shit, what the hell? I wrapped an arm around her and drew her tight into my body. My eyes dropped to her face, and my hand already rose to wipe away tears. I hated it when girls cried.
Only, Gabrielle wasn’t crying. She was laughing so hard that no sound came out of her mouth.
“Shit, that was close,” she sputtered when her laughter subsided. “Quick thinking on the escape.”
She was still standing under my arm, pressed to my side where’d she’d stayed as we laughed. When she looked up at me again, something in her eyes had changed. Before I could say another word, she leaned up and kissed me. Claiming my mouth with hers. Hard.
It took my brain no more than a second to catch up. I gathered her in both arms and slid my tongue against her lips. She let me in and reached her hands up to tug on my hair. A low groan escaped me as I walked her backward, until her back hit the wall.
I trapped her body with mine, and I kissed her hungrily.
“We should take this back to your place,” I growled and pressed my hips to hers.
She grinned wickedly, lust clouding her eyes as she scanned our surroundings. “This alley is dark enough.”
Her hands dropped from my shoulders. She shimmied out of her thong and stuffed it into my back pocket. “What? Are you afraid of a little exhibitionism, Mr. Big Shot Quarterback?”