No.
My gut tells me Hailey isn’t a groupie. A fan, yes, but not one who wants to sleep with me just so she can tell everyone she did.
“Matt?”
I glance across the table to find her watching me as she raises her fork to her mouth. “Yeah?” I ask absently, because now I’m watching her chew and it’s distracting. Her lips do this hot quivering thing that fascinates me.
“You just spaced out mid-conversation.” She lifts an eyebrow, and I like the challenge in her expression. “Am I boring you?”
“No, of course not.” You’re making me hot. Feisty Hailey is even more fun than shy Hailey.
She sets down her fork and dabs a finger on the corner of her mouth to wipe away a tiny dot of steak sauce. Then she licks the tip of that finger, and yeah, I don’t think she’s purposely trying to be sexy, but damn if a growl doesn’t leave my lips.
“What was that?”
The words pop out before I can stop them. “I like watching you eat.”
Jesus. That sounded like a cheesy come-on from a porno.
“Thanks?” Her cheeks turn brighter than tomatoes, but her voice is dry as she adds, “Yeah, I’m a great eater. Self-taught, too.”
I snicker, and force myself to stop thinking dirty thoughts. This is only our second date, and I already freaked her out during the first one by mauling her at the opera. I really need to play it cool here, especially if I want a third date.
Do I, though? Want a third date?
I think so. Yeah, I do. But three dates is…a lot. By the third date with my ex-wife, we were already spending the night together and talking about our future. Granted, we were young and impatient and a bit stupid. We probably should’ve taken our time with the relationship instead of plowing forward at Mach speed.
With Hailey, rushing feels like the wrong move. But dating her could be the wrong move, too. As my ex can attest to, I suck at relationships. My job definitely isn’t conducive to them—the lifestyle, the long absences, killed my marriage. I don’t know what Hottie is looking for with me, but if it's something long term, I’m not sure I’m capable of that. But I can’t come out and ask her what she wants, not on the second date. That would totally be rushing things.
“Let me help you clean up.” Hailey picks up her empty plate.
I quickly rise from my chair and swipe the plate from her hand. “I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you pour us some more wine?”
“Are you sure?”
I’m not sure about anything right now. “Positive. Go sit down in the living room. I’ll be right there.”
I cart our plates to the kitchen and do a half-ass job of rinsing them off before leaving them in the sink. From the corner of my eye, I watch as Hailey carries the wine bottle and our glasses to the huge leather sectional. She refills our glasses, then takes a dainty sip that makes me smile.
Yeah, I like her. I really do.
A moment later, I join her on the sofa. She’s sitting at one end. I choose to sit in the middle instead of the other end, but I make sure to keep a foot of space between us. Playing it cool, remember?
“Should we put something on?” I ask, gesturing to the remote.
“Sure.” Her eyes dart toward me and then back down at her wine glass. “You, uh, pick, though.”
“Okay,” I say slowly. It seems that the nervous Hailey is back. And all I did was sit down on the couch next to her.
Hmm.
“I have Netflix,” I tell her. “But I don’t make much use of it. I’m either on the road, or else I have the girls, and all they want to watch is shit with singing princesses.”
Hailey’s smile is sweet, but she doesn’t look me in the eye.
Pointing the remote at the TV, I turn it on. A hockey game is the first thing to appear on the screen. That’s no surprise because this is Canada and I watch the sports channels when I’m alone. “We could watch Montreal get their asses kicked by Detroit.”
Hottie perks up. “Now there’s an excellent idea.”
She relaxes as we watch our rivals let in a couple of goals. But when I stretch my arm over the back of the couch, she freezes. Then she freezes again when the tips of my fingers brush her shoulder. Her shirt has sleeves, so I’m not touching bare skin, but the way she reacts, you’d think I was running an ice cube all over her naked body.
I gently move my fingers away. Hottie is attracted to me. I already know that. But she’s a little afraid of me, too. We had a lot of fun during dinner, but physical stuff makes her jittery.
And now she’s sitting a few inches away from me looking as tense as I’ve ever seen her.
I pull my phone out of my back pocket. “Hey, Hottie?”
“Mmm?” Her spine straightens like she’s been called to the principal’s office.
“Do you still have my phone number?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Text me something so I have yours.”
She rises from the sofa and fetches her purse. She’s typing something as she settles back on the couch, and a second later my phone beeps.
I smile at what she wrote.
Hailey: It’s Hailey!
Matt: Hi honey. Are you okay over there?
Her eyes lift to mine. She blushes, then starts tapping her phone.
Hailey: I’m sorry. I’m terrible at this.
Matt: At what?
Hailey: Dating.
Matt: Not true. We had a lot of fun during dinner.
Hailey: Okay. We did. It’s the after dinner part I suck at.
Matt: You’re bad at...sitting on the couch?
She looks up and gives me an eye roll. I grin back at her.
Hailey: I’m bad at being so close to you. You’re all big and intimidating and hot.
“You think I’m hot?” I say aloud, trying to keep a shit-eating grin off my face.
She blushes wildly but looks away, and I realize I’ve cut off the flow of words again.
Matt: I think you’re incredibly hot.
Hailey: I’m not kidding. I’m so bad at this, Matt. I turn into a puddle of nerves when you’re sitting next to me.
I take that as compliment, because it means I affect her as much as she affects me.
Matt: So you have a little phobia that makes you afraid to touch me. Do you know how they treat phobias, Hottie? With desensitization therapy.
She bursts out laughing on her end of the couch, so I run with it.
Matt: Seriously. We’ll just ease you into it. What’s your favorite sexual position?
“Seriously?” she yelps. “That’s not a first-date conversation topic!”
Matt: Technically it’s our second date. Just answer the question. This is an important step in your healing process.
With a snicker, Hailey bends over her phone. Two seconds later, another message pops up on mine.
Hailey: Wouldn’t you like to know.
Matt: Um, yeah. That’s why I asked.
Hailey: What’s yours?
Matt: All of them. I studied the Kama Sutra in college.
She hoots with laughter. And, yeah, it’s weird that we’re texting on our date instead of talking to each other, which I can honestly say is a first for me. But it’s working. Already her shoulders are losing some of their tension, and the blush on her cheeks is from laughter, not fear.