Rate a Date by Monica Murphy Page 0,33

quick text. Dinner went longer than I expected. Do you want to meet in say an hour?

I want to give him enough time to get ready and get here. I have no idea where he lives, or how long it’ll take him to drive here.

My phone dings and I read the message from Mitch. I can be there in probably twenty minutes.

Oh. Well. I guess we’ll see each other sooner than I thought. He sounds eager.

I kind of like it.

Nerves make me feel a little giddy. Well, nerves and a healthy dose of alcohol.

Text me when you’re in the lobby, I tell him.

“He’s meeting me in twenty minutes,” I tell them as I set my phone on the table. “He’s headed over now.”

“We should go with you,” Candice says yet again.

“No way. I’ll be fine,” I reassure them. The last thing I want is my friends trying to intimidate Mitch. That’s not the first impression I want to make.

“We can all hide and watch,” Stella suggests, her eyes sparkling. “Spy on them in the lobby.”

“Absolutely not.” My voice is firm, and I scan the table, sending every single one of them a stern look. “Please don’t do that. Let me meet this guy in peace.”

“Where are you going?” Caroline asks.

“We’re staying here. Maybe we’ll go grab a drink. Or gamble.” Doubtful, unless he wants to. I’m not big on gambling. I’d rather buy a cute outfit than blow a hundred bucks on roulette or whatever.

“Or maybe she’ll bring him back to the suite. She does have a room all to herself,” Kelsey reminds them, making them all snicker.

Jerks.

“I am not bringing him back to the suite,” I say haughtily, lifting my chin. “We’re not going to mess around like that. Not on the first date.”

I say it with such conviction, I’ve convinced myself it’s true. No way will I bring him back to the room tonight.

No freaking way.

Ten

Mitch

I’m nervous, and I rarely feel that way. Especially about a woman. I’m usually fairly confident, but this woman’s got me on pins and needles, and I’m worried she might not like me. She’s not just some random hookup to me. This is a woman I want to invest time in. A woman I want to spend time with.

Going on a dating app probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do in order to find someone serious, but at least Eleanor doesn’t know who I really am. And that’s my biggest problem. Women who realize I play professional ball always want a piece of me. They don’t even care who I actually am or what I might like. I can’t take them seriously, not when they’re looking at me like I’m an unlimited bank account and they want to go on a shopping spree.

This has been my life since I started with the NFL. Hell, this was my life in college. I’ve never had a steady girlfriend. What was the point? I didn’t need one. There were guys I knew, guys I still know, who play with me or on other teams, and they’ve been with the same woman since high school.

Since high school. Can you imagine?

I can’t. That’s a long-ass time. My grandparents have been married over forty years, and I can’t wrap my head around that. I can barely stand myself. How am I supposed to be with a woman for that long?

It sounds impossible.

Tonight, I’m meeting a woman I’m considering having a relationship with—for the first time. And while I don’t know Eleanor that well, I have high fuckin’ hopes. I have a feeling we’re going to have chemistry, though I’m not sure if Eleanor is even going to let me kiss her. I’d like to kiss her and test this out. She hasn’t given me prude vibes, but who knows?

The fact that I feel patient, that I’m cool with not getting any action from her, has to say something about my maturity level.

Yep. I am a new man.

I arrive at Wilder Las Vegas in exactly twenty minutes, which is some sort of miracle because traffic is shit on a Friday night, and I’m not one-hundred percent familiar with the area yet. I pull into the entrance and steer my truck toward valet parking, because I’m not dealing with that monstrous parking garage tonight.

When the valet kid approaches me, his eyes go wide the moment he sees my face. “Are you Mitch Anderson? With the Raiders?”

I toss him my keys. “The one and only.”

His gaze goes to my gleaming black truck.