“You’d be dead in three days.”
He smiled. “Surely, this counts as flirting.”
The waitress came to get our orders, and Damon rushed through them, then asked for water.
“Still or sparkling?” the waitress asked.
“My date here likes whatever’s more expensive,” Damon said.
“And my date likes whatever gets him laid,” I said before I could stop myself.
“Sparkling it is,” the waitress said, taking the menu away and leaving me to simmer in embarrassment. Damon threw his head back and laughed out loud, saying he couldn’t believe that I’d said that aloud.
“Shut up. I can’t ever come back here,” I said, sinking lower into my chair.
It was a few minutes later that the sparkling water arrived, followed quickly by two plates of lavender and lemon tart, the scent rising and launching me back into my childhood and simpler times. The times when Damon would come over to play video games with Nick, and I would be somewhere around them, ignored by my brother but not by his friend.
“You…remembered,” I said.
“Your mother’s garden,” Damon said. “It smelled just like it.”
“Really, you remember that,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re weird.”
Damon laughed and took a bite of the tart, moaning as soon as it was inside his mouth. “Fuck, that’s the stuff. The sweetest thing I’m having tonight.”
I took a bite, too, and let the flavor explode in my mouth, then flicked a gaze to Damon’s pretty eyes. “We’ll see about that. You might walk me home.”
“And that is how you do a date,” he said, so smug that he might as well have dusted his hands.
Damon paid for everything despite my protests. Being gallant was one thing, but I didn’t need him to be wasteful. Even so, he insisted, and I took his arm when he offered it on the way out. The greeter opened the door for us, and we stepped into the cool evening air.
We walked back, though it took us nearly forty minutes. After the food and drinks, it was nice to just move in a direction, slow and steady, without rushing to the finish line. I’d told Silas I would have company tonight, and he’d excitedly asked if it was the famous big hockey guy. My lack of response was all the confirmation he needed, so he assured me the room would be mine. He had a shot at his crush, so he was going to give that a try. Unlike me, he was a lot more subtle, which was a devastating realization. For a tornado of a person, he could keep his lips pretty sealed. “I also don’t kiss and tell,” he’d told me.
We reached the dormitories, and Damon bumped me with his shoulder, kind of like a hungry cat, but polite. More like a well-trained puppy, then. He bumped me again, anticipation building. I hid my smile as best I could until he bumped me again with his shoulder, only steps away from my door.
And when I didn’t say anything, he leaned in, his breath warm, his voice vibrating through me. “Would I like to come in?”
“Would you like to come in, Damon?” I asked.
“For a nightcap,” he suggested conspiratorially.
“For a nightcap,” I clarified.
“Oh, that’s so sweet. I could have a drink,” he said, his most polite expression painted onto his face.
He made me laugh. That was all that was wrong with the universe. None of the guys who had ever wanted to date me had made me laugh. It was only ever the one undatable guy.
I unlocked the door and let him into the building, then led the way up the stairs and down the hallway to my room. I opened it and flicked the lights on as we both stepped inside. When I turned, Damon was closing the door and leaning against it, and I noticed the one thing that was out of place on the side of the room.
A package, lying on my bed, wrapped in a cute wrapping paper with various illustrated pieces of fruit scattered over a cream background.
A gift. He was testing me. That had to be it. He was testing how charming he could be before I surrendered and fell in love. But he wouldn’t get an answer out of me. No, sir. He would not.
I stepped forward and touched his broad chest, looking into his dark, wonderful eyes.
NINE
Damon