I can’t see him when I’m actually playing. I don’t see anyone really. I close my eyes and see the vibrant colors of the music I’m playing. The neon tendrils swirling in blackness. Sparks exploding from a midnight sky in brilliant flashes of light.
“Swear I’m not making it up. Why would I lie about that?” Afton’s voice is gentle, as if his only intention is to observe this phenomenon and tell me about it. He’s a genuinely nice guy. It seems unfair that I don’t have anything to give him in return.
“No, I, um, I believe you. I was just thinking.” I blow out a breath into the night as we reach the brightly colored funky blockish building he gestures to as our destination. “He’s probably just watching to make sure I don’t screw up and he doesn’t have to cover for me or something.”
Afton holds the door for me. A Hispanic woman wearing all black greets us. She stands there in stark contrast to the radiance of colors all around us. Sombreros adorn the walls and intricate blown-glass lanterns hang from the ceiling. The smells of salsa and fajitas entice my painfully empty stomach.
After we’re given menus and seated at a small table in a back corner, a slightly more intimate setting than I’d prefer, Afton looks at me and then forces a tight smile.
“Whoa. Acting is out for you,” I say, picking up my menu. “Change your mind about this date already? Better say something quick because I’m about to order the entire left side of the menu.”
Afton lowers his menu and runs a hand through his hair.
“I’m kidding. I’m getting a chicken quesadilla. Relax.”
I watch as he inhales deeply and leans forward. “I was impressed seeing you onstage. You’re very talented. And beautiful. Obviously.” He pauses to shake his head and I avert my eyes from this now very awkward situation I’m in. “I promise I have a point. I’m going to get to it here shortly.”
I breathe an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Oh good. I was worried this was going to get uncomfortable before we even ordered appetizers.”
Finally he grins, a boyish grin of amusement that brightens his entire face. “My bad. I’m usually better at this.”
“I have to say, I don’t think I’ve ever made a guy this nervous before.”
“It’s not you.” He closes his eyes and smiles again. “I suck at this.”
“Yeah you do. I think the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech is supposed to come after dessert at least. Or maybe even after the sex.”
Afton’s eyes go so wide I almost laugh out loud.
“Y-you’re planning to have sex with me? On the first date?”
There’s an eagerness in his voice and also a fear.
“Well, I’m not going to now since you gave me the breakup line already.” I can’t hold back my grin and it gives me away.
“That’s just mean. I’m starting to think maybe I should make you buy me dinner now.”
“Oh, uh-uh. No way. You asked me to dinner, remember?”
Afton’s lips twitch into a smirk.
A young man who looks barely old enough to drive interrupts long enough to greet us and set tortilla chips and a bowl of salsa on our table along with two glasses of water. I order my quesadilla and Afton orders steak fajitas. Once the waiter leaves I lift a chip from the bright red basket and return my attention to my date.
“So you were saying?”
His eyes meet mine and there’s a heat under the playfulness. I triggered something when I mentioned sex earlier. I’m wondering if this works on all members of the male species.
“I was curious about why you agreed to come to dinner with me. Seemed to be a risky decision.”
“Let me guess,” I begin, pausing to take a sip of my water. “You got the ‘we own her, you can look but don’t touch’ message from my brother and Gavin’s behavior and now this is a severance dinner.” I eat the chip and lick the crumbs from my lips. His eyes drop and I have to test my theory. “Unless . . .” I bite my lip while he watches and lean closer to him. “You’re not as nice as you look, and you’re willing to risk it.”
Afton isn’t just nice. He’s smart, too. He catches on pretty quickly. And I’m not as sexy as I wish I could be.