A tropical storm of seriousness brewed in his eyes. Dark green swirled with deep gray, and flecks of blue sparked inside the funnel cloud.
“Because you’re you, and I’m me. I guess that’s why I always sneaked into sporting events and decided to be all pro-women to begin with—I never saw myself as the cool one. I was smart and cute and sweet, but not sexy or sultry. Like the women you’re probably used to spending time with.”
I stared at the votive slanting shadows on the tablecloth, and steadied my breath. I’d never confessed something like that before, come clean about my shortcomings and how they played into my decisions. Here I was laying it all out there for Blane Steele, the campus stud, all solid muscle and gorgeous hair. He was an icon at Hafton and soon to be iconic everywhere, and I was telling him all my woes.
He squeezed my hand and I looked up. I half expected him to get up and run, but he didn’t. He sat firmly in his seat and continued to stare me down.
“Cate, there are no women I’m used to being with. Yes, I would be intimate . . . or fuck,” he said, glancing around us before whispering the last part. “But it was always just a mutual getting off, definitely not the kind of thing where we’d spend time together. For the last few years, I’ve ate, slept, and breathed ball. I need money, need to make a living doing that shit.”
My thumb took a chance and rubbed against his.
“I’m a man.” He leaned in. “Yeah, I have needs, but I’m stumbling as much as you are with spending time with someone.”
I took a deep breath and licked my lips. “Okay.”
“Wow, so I’ve rendered Little Miss Big Mouth speechless.”
This time we were both laughing when the server arrived with our food.
Blane gestured that I should serve myself first.
“Looks incredible,” I said, scooping some salad full of beans and smoked meats onto my plate.
“I like any and all food. Not picky here,” Blane said as he pulled his elbows off the table. He might have grown up without much, as he liked to so frequently point out, but someone had obviously taught him table manners.
“Me too. Sadly. It makes my mom crazy,” I admitted. “But my dad would be gaga for this place. I have to call him tomorrow and tell him every detail.”
“And you’re liking all food makes me crazy in a good way. I’m having the most fun I ever had out to dinner.” Blane clinked his glass into mine. “Cheers again.”
I turned my head to the side in an effort to hide the blush creeping across my cheeks.
“Hey, look at me,” he said, and I turned back. “I meant it, this is fun. Don’t be bashful.”
“I’m not. It’s just I’ve really never been complimented like that.”
“Consider it just the beginning, short stack.”
“See? I knew you couldn’t go that long without insulting my vertical challenge.”
Blane plopped a hot pepper in his mouth, which he quickly regretted, and I burst out in more laughter.
After he chugged half of his water, he narrowed his eyes at me. “You could have warned me, Italian girl.”
“What fun would that have been?”
“I’ll show you.” He pressed his large palms into the table and leaned over to kiss me, swiping his tongue in my mouth.
He pulled away. “How’s that taste?”
“Incredibly hot, in a good way.” This time I didn’t even turn to hide my blush.
We kept eating, and by the time we’d finished the appetizers and wine, I couldn’t eat anything else. Blane ate the pizza by himself, and it felt so domestic while I sat with him and he ate. At one point, he pinched off a bite of his slice and fed it to me.
This was all so strange for me. I wasn’t playing on my home court, nowhere close.
The server was unobtrusive, the candle flickered prettily on the table, and the wine mellowed me. It was an idyllic evening. But with every second that passed, I grew more troubled.
I was stolen by the Stealer, and pretty sure I was unable to be rescued.
After dinner, Blane drove back toward campus. I was never more uncertain of what to do. I looked out the window as the familiar sights whizzed by, and didn’t want this night to end.
“Do you want to come back to my place? No pressure,” Blane asked. glancing at me.
“I think so.”
“Cool. I don’t want this night to end.”
Me either.
Blane
We parked outside my building and I had to adjust myself when I got out of the truck. I’d been in a perpetual state of arousal since I first picked Cate up. Her smell, her laugh, the way her tits bounced—all of it drove me wild.
But then she’d become secretive about her project, as if she didn’t trust me, or she’d make some ridiculous remark, getting all down on herself. It was like having the icy contents of a cooler tossed in my lap.
I knew I had to check my erection at the door because I didn’t know what she was down with . . . when we got back to my room. This was a definite first, but strangely erotic.