I gasp and fake grasp my chest. “Ouch. I’ll have you know I have never bought followers, Mr. Covington.”
“You know I hate it when you call me that.” He throws his Black Card on the desk and turns to me. “Where did you go earlier, anyway?”
“I just saw something that caught my eye.”
***
Jackson’s penchant for pineapple on pizza is a choice, to say the least.
I stack the four boxes of pizza on my lap before buckling my seatbelt. Parker took his Ferrari 812 Superfast GTS out today, which means there is no backseat I can throw the pizzas in—not that Parker would let me do that in any of his cars. He complains that the smell of pizza leaks into the leather and that he would sooner put the pizza in its own Uber than let that happen. While I agree with him on the leather thing, the Uber part is a little out there. Which is why all four pizzas are now uncomfortably warming up my thighs.
Parker presses the button that rolls the roof off as he starts up the engine. It revs to life, and we grin at each other as he roars out of the parking lot at a speed that is inappropriate for the space.
The warm spring air blasts around us, and I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of the car purring around me and the bass thumping into me. Out of everyone, Parker is the best to drive with. He doesn’t pussyfoot when it comes to how loud he plays music and isn’t afraid to go way above the speed limit when he can.
We both have an appreciation for fast cars and killer bikes. His family has a track in Italy that he brought me out to one fall where we raced a bunch of new models his family friend was testing out. One of the best life experiences ever. If there’s anything I’ll spend money on after PC hardware and video game merch, it’s motorcycles.
Sydney, however, refuses to ride with either of us. When she can, she’ll only let Jackson drive. The few times she gets tricked into driving with Parker or me, she screams like a banshee the entire time.
I feel my phone buzz in my pocket and shift to pull it out from underneath the pizzas.
Stevie.
Finally.
I tamp down the smile I feel forming at the edges. The last thing I need is Parker looking over and asking me any questions. He is already suspicious about the mall, and as carefree as Parker may seem, he has a sly streak hidden beneath that golden boy exterior.
I shot her a text while we were waiting for pizza to see if she’d be down to meet up tomorrow to grab a bite or coffee. I’m not one to play games and wait twenty-four hours to text her or some bullshit. If I’m interested, I’m interested. If I’m not, then I just let it fizzle out. The good thing is I never give out my number as Blade, so I never have to worry about those one-night stands trying to contact me. Aleksander, however, sometimes makes the drunken mistake of handing over his number, which does result in a problem at times.
ALEKS: Hey, u free tomorrow?
STEVIE: I might be…
ALEKS: Would u be free for the best muffin ever
STEVIE: That’s pretty big talk
ALEKS: I know other things that are big ;)
STEVIE: Omg.
ALEKS: I’m taking that as a yes. I’ll pick u up at 12?
STEVIE: Yes…buuut I’ll drive myself
ALEKS: Where’s the fun in that?
STEVIE: Safety.
STEVIE: You could be a serial killer and murder me in my home
STEVIE: OR what if I have an awful time and need to escape? Can’t do that if you drive me
ALEKS: Baby I’m always a good time ;)
STEVIE:
ALEKS: Fine. There’s a place called Terrestrial Coffee
STEVIE: ok I’ll see you there
ALEKS: Sounds good
ALEKS: I don’t give off axe murderer vibes FYI
STEVIE: true, it’s more psychopathic serial killer
I snort, shutting my phone off and sliding it under my leg before turning to look out the window. I release the huge grin I’ve been holding back, letting it spread across my face.
Date one scored.
Just you wait, Stevie. I’m going to give you the best ride of your life.
FOURTEEN
* * *
STEVIE
“Don’t be nervous, Stevie. You’re hot as hell.”
I smile at myself in the little mirror of my visor, trying to pep myself up. This is the first time I’ve gone on a first date in years. I’ve been sitting in my car for five minutes, convincing myself to get the hell out. I’m not late, but I will be if I don’t get out now.
It took me over an hour to decide on an outfit. Over an hour. I had picked out an outfit last night while lying in bed and it had seemed perfect in my mind, but when I tried it on after yoga this morning…it was all wrong. I immediately threw it off and the next thing I knew, half my walk-in closet was spilled on the floor.
I settled on a cute pair of light-wash jeans and a white crochet halter top with some clear heels. I couldn’t find my nipple pasties, so I’m just free-titting it. The weather has been warming up, so I should be safe. Although, if I catch even a whiff of a breeze, I’m a little worried about how obvious my nips are going to be through the crochet—it’s an adorable flower pattern, but it doesn’t leave much to the imagination.
Oh well. It’s cute with a dash of sexy, which feels perfect for the occasion. Plus, I love how I look. I give my shoulders a roll before snatching my purse from the passenger seat and slipping out of the car. I tap the handle to lock it before taking a picture of the parking spot, so I remember where it is.
Tossing my keys into my purse, I make my way out of the lot and walk the two blocks to the café. It’s a cute place that I haven’t been to before and definitely not the sort of place I would’ve pegged him to pick. He gave off more indie, grunge coffee shop vibes, not minimalistic, plant-parent coffee shop vibes.
The exterior of the café is all floor-to-ceiling glass with a quaint, neon green sign, so I can already see inside to the all-black interior with a copious number of hanging plants and retro light fittings that create a yellow haze. I’m not the best at recognizing plants, but I can at least tell there are several large monstera plants dotted all over the place. If they make good coffee, I might just have to add this as a new go-to coffee shop.
I pull the door open and step inside, greeted with the smell of freshly roasted coffee and the lightly sweet scent of fresh-baked pastries. Just the smell of caffeine wakes me up a little. There are a couple of tables free, but I can spot some cream C-shaped couches in the back of the shop that look too inviting to pass up.
I don’t know whether I should claim a couch now or wait here for Aleks so he can find me easier.
I take another glance at my phone but don’t have any new messages from him. It’s five past twelve. Five minutes late isn’t bad, but…wouldn’t he let me know if he was running late?