“It’s perfect, except you won’t have to deal with the fallout of sticking it to Mark. I will. That’s on me.”
“If he really gets you fired for going out on a date with me, he’s a bigger piece of shit than I thought.” He grabs a roll and tears into it with his teeth. I’m alarmed by how he makes eating something like a piece of bread look sexy. I watch his jaw work as he chews, fascinated by my body’s response to his thick biceps, his wide chest, the dark stubble peppering his tanned face. Suddenly, I see myself sitting in his lap, my arms around his neck, and a horrible ache throbs in my chest. Gage notices my stare and winks.
I am not going to get hurt by another guy.
“Gage, you are aware this isn’t a date, right?”
“I cooked you food. We’ve got silverware, drinks, and even a fancy tablecloth.” He tries to cut into his steak with the plastic knife, and it snaps in half. “That’s called a date.”
“No, it's not! You’re cooking a complimentary meal for your guest.”
“Wow. You think I do this for all my tenants? Really?”
Do I believe the one-stars on his profile? Unfortunately, yes. There’s no way Gage is grilling filet mignons for visitors.
“If you’re expecting something out of this, forget it. I’m in no place to start dating anyone.”
“Did I ask you to go steady? No. I said I wanted to lick your pussy, and you got all hot and bothered. Can’t blame you. I think it’s been way, way too long since you’ve been treated right. And I think after a night of drinking and dancing under the stars, you won’t be able to resist me.”
Holy shit. Maybe he’s right.
Wine sloshes over the rim as I grab it from the table and raise it for my lips simply to avoid his irritating stare. Alcohol runs down my throat, burning my already flaming skin.
Damn it.
“Look, I’m not interested. You’re rude, inconsiderate, and way too blunt.”
He rests his gorgeous head in his palm as he leans over the table, watching me with a little smile. “Every time I look at you, you start breathing faster. A blush spreads over your chest, right above your tits. Just like right now. You want me, and I want you. Let’s stop playing games and just admit it.”
I slam the glass down. “Maybe I’m blushing because I’m drinking.”
Although I know damn well that’s a lie. He’s just offering me a good time. Why am I pushing so hard against this?
Cause he’s an asshole.
“Sure it is, San Francisco.”
A twinge of annoyance. “My name is—”
“—Olivia. I know, I know. But every time I see a flash of your inner city girl, I can’t resist calling you out.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re uptight and constantly attached to your phone, just like everyone in that goddamn city.”
My face heats up. He’s right, of course. “I have a crazy job. They expect me to be on call twenty-four hours a day. You would be high-strung too if you worked in advertising.”
“Except I wouldn’t because I wouldn’t ever want that job,” he says in a heated tone. “I don’t want to argue with you, San Francisco. We live in two different worlds, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be a great fuck.”
Oh my God. “Do you just say whatever the hell is in your brain?”
“Am I rude for telling you what I want? Or for saying, fuck?” I watch him flick his bottom lip under his teeth in slow motion as he mouths it.
“Both.”
“So people don’t swear in San Francisco? I call bullshit.”
“Of course they do. They just don’t talk like savages.”
Wild blue eyes dance at me as he leans over the table, adopting a softer voice. “Darling, would you like to make love with me? Is that better?”
I glare at him. “No to everything.”
“Why can’t you just admit that you want me? You’re sick of all the namby-pamby, wussy hipsters in San Francisco. You want a real man—a man’s man. That’s me. No frills.”
No frills, indeed. Gage is the opposite of every guy I’ve ever met back home. Sometimes, it’s nice to have someone just take charge and do things without asking them. I have a feeling Gage isn’t the type to ask my opinion on every little fucking thing.
His tattooed arm reaches out as he grabs the empty plate in front of me. “Well, I’m going to the wedding regardless.”