“I hope you like Chinese,” Cade tells me as we walk toward the restaurant.

I smile as my answer, thinking of the crappy Chinese food I ate last night. Though this place looks way fancier than my neighborhood standby China Restaurant. When we enter the building, we’re immediately enveloped in the cool, dark atmosphere. The interior is very chic, with dark walls and mirrors, golden lit sconces and sleek furniture everywhere. There’s a gorgeous girl standing behind the black lacquered hostess stand, her blood red lips pouting as we approach.

“We have a reservation at seven-thirty for two,” Cade tells the hostess in a hushed voice. It’s quiet throughout the restaurant even though it’s busy, and I can hear the tinkling music in the background.

The hostess shoots him a bored look before checking her reservation list. “Name?”

“Cade McDougal.”

Any time I start dating a guy, I imagine his last name as mine. Amanda McDougal. Amanda Winters McDougal…

Has a decent ring to it.

Does this make me a psycho? Maybe.

Probably.

“Ah yes.” The hostess taps her finger on the list, her black nail polish gleaming in the light. “McDougal. Two for seven-thirty.” She lifts her head, sending us both a withering look. “You’re late.”

“By what? Two minutes?” Wow, look at me being so snappy. The hostess glares at me, quietly fuming.

Without a word, she grabs two heavy menus and heads deeper into the restaurant. Cade settles his hand against my lower back as we follow after her. I’m not surprised at all that she seats us at a tiny table close to the kitchen.

“What a bitch,” I tell him after she’s gone and we’re seated at the table.

Cade winces. “I’ve heard this place has great food, but snotty service.”

“She’s like the queen bee of the snots,” I agree, flipping open my menu. I try my best to contain my sticker shock, but dang, this place is expensive. And it’s not just regular Chinese food either. It’s fancy Asian fusion, which I love, don’t get me wrong. I just have no idea what I’m supposed to order. Since Cade’s never been here before either, how much help is he going to be?

We’re both going over our menus, comparing notes and trying to figure out what to eat when I hear my text notification ding from deep within my purse. I ignore it, fighting the impulse to check who it is.

When it dings again two minutes later, I must physically freeze up or give off a certain aura, because Cade says gently, “Go ahead and check it.”

I offer him an apologetic smile as I reach down for my purse. “Sorry. It’s just—no one ever texts me on a Saturday night.”

Cade grins. “Not even for a hookup?”

My smile stays in place. I can’t believe he just said that. “Not usually, no.” I almost say, I’m not that type of girl, but I hold off. Sounds too over the top.

I pull my phone out of my purse to see I have a text from a number I don’t recognize.

You still use this number?

Frowning, I contemplate ignoring the text. But curiosity gets the best of me.

Who is this?

The answer is immediate.

JT

Who? Oh…

Jordan freaking Tuttle.

I shove my phone back in my purse and drop it to the ground, focusing all of my attention on Cade. This is about getting to know him tonight, not being hung up on the past. Good ol’ JT is part of my past.

If I’m lucky, Cade could be part of my future.

“Everything okay?” Cade asks.

“Definitely,” I say with a smile, and I freaking mean it. I’m fine. Great, actually. I have a handsome guy sitting across from me at a nice restaurant and my hair looks fabulous. Life can’t get much better than this.

We figure out what we want to eat, opting to sharing a few plates, and then we start asking each other questions. The usual first date thing.

“I’m from central Washington,” he says when I ask where he grew up. “In a small town called Wenatchee.”

Never heard of it. “Do you like it there?”

“It’s okay. It snows in the winter and can get one hundred plus degrees in the summer, so that kind of sucks. But the Columbia River is right there, and I like the downtown area. There are cool restaurants and shops.”

“That sounds nice.”

The waiter appears, a friendly guy in all black, and he takes our drink orders. I can actually feel my purse buzzing against my shoe like it’s an actual call, and I want to check my phone again, though I’m afraid it’s stupid Jordan.

No way am I going to answer the phone and talk to him while out with Cade. That sucker knew I was going on a date tonight. It’s like he’s purposely trying to sabotage my evening.

“Have you ever been to Washington?” Cade asks after our server delivers our drinks and takes our dinner order.

“No.” I shake my head, reaching for my glass of wine. “I’ve barely been out of the state.”

“Really? Well, I guess I get why. Everything you need is here in California,” Cade says. “I like to travel, though, so…I’ve been lots of places. Moved around some, too.”

“How long have you lived here?” I ask.

“Almost a year. I was working at another physical therapists’ office, but it wasn’t what I really wanted. I was settling while waiting for a spot to open up at a place with a sports medicine focus, and luckily enough I found Atlas.” He smiles.

I smile in return. “More like we were lucky to find you.”

“How about you? Where did you grow up?”

“Oh, in central California. I moved here for college—went to San Jose State my junior and senior year.”

“Went to community college first?”

I nod. Take another sip of my wine, which is crisp and delicious. Not too sure if I want to get overly liquored up tonight. Girl has to have some limits.

My phone starts incessantly buzzing again and I kick my purse, wishing I could send it flying. But I can’t. And I swear Cade can hear/feel it too, because he sends me a concerned look, and I finally give in to see what’s up.

It’s not just a call from Jordan, he’s trying to actually FaceTime me.

Un. Real.

Grabbing the phone, I clutch it in my hand with the screen against my palm as I rise to my feet, sending Cade another one of those apologetic smiles. I hope this isn’t a habit I’m going to start. “I really need to take this. Give me a minute and I’ll be right back?”

“Everything okay?” he calls after me as I leave.

“Everything is great. Don’t worry,” I tell him as I move through the restaurant. I hit the answer button just as I walk out the front door, and I glance at my phone, watching in disbelief as Jordan’s handsome face fills the screen.

“Why are you FaceTiming me?” My greeting is rude, but I don’t care. The past twenty-four hours has been filled with nonstop Tuttle and I’m kind of over it.

Well. I should be over it…

He raises his dark brows and I allow myself to really drink him in. His hair is cropped close on the sides but longish on top, and currently a bit of a mess. There’s dark stubble on his face, giving him a bad-boy air, and his eyes are as blue as ever. He’s wearing a plain black T-shirt that stretches across his broad chest and shoulders, and I’m instantly annoyed. It’s so unfair that he’s somehow gotten better looking over the years.

“Why so hostile?” he asks, sounding genuinely surprised.

I glance around, thankful no one is nearby. “I told you I was going on a date.”

“Must not be going so well if you answered me.”

Now he just sounds smug. And no way can I dignify what he said with a direct answer. “You need to stop.”

“Come on, Mandy. Aren’t you curious?”

“What do you mean?”

“I wanted to see what you looked like. Your Instagram profile doesn’t have enough photos of you on it,” he says, being so blatantly honest it’s downright disconcerting. He leans in close, like he’s really checking me out, and I’m tempted to end the call.

But of course, we know I don’t.

“You look good, Mandy,” he says, his voice low. Sexy. “I like your hair.”

I flip my long, wavy hair behind my shoulders so he can’t see it anymore. “Thanks.”

“Nice shirt.” He sounds amused and I glance down at myself. I’m wearing a silky oversized shirt with a deep V-neck, and wouldn’t you know it, there’s a hint of cleavage going on. Not too much because I wasn’t going for obvious, but just enough so that Cade would catch a glimpse and hopefully be…what? Intrigued?

Looks like I intrigued the wrong person.

“You’re a perv,” I mutter, bringing my hair back forward with my free hand so I can cover my chest.

He chuckles, and the sound ripples along my nerve endings, making me shiver. It’s like he’s actually with me, but he’s not. It’s weird. It feels…normal, talking to Jordan like this, even though it’s been years.

“I have to go,” I tell him when he still hasn’t said anything.

“Where’s your date?”

“Waiting for me.”

“Where are you at?”

I almost swing around and show him the restaurant, but decide against it. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would.” He’s very serious. “Talking with you like this is…strange. But nice. I’ve missed you. Our friendship.”

Ah. The two words that are like a splash of ice cold water in my face. Just the reality punch I need to get me out of this confusing conversation, so I can escape staring at his stupid gorgeous face. He just misses me as a friend. Nothing more. Gotta remember that.

“Right. I’ll talk to you later, Jordan.”

I end the FaceTime call before he can say anything else and hurry back into the restaurant, smiling at Cade when he spots me heading his way. I try my best to ignore the frustration building up inside of me. And the unease. Seeing Jordan like that unsettled me, and I don’t like it.

Not one bit.