Page 105 of Secrets on Ice

Cassidy: Please, Em. I don’t want to get out of his bed. Can you cover for me?

Ember: I’m not going to go to dinner with your brother without you.

Cassidy: Why not?

Ember: It would be weird.

Cassidy: No, it wouldn’t. Go on, use it as practice for when you go on a real date.

Ember: This is not a date.

Cassidy: Ew. That would be weird. I know it’s not a date, but you haven’t gone out to dinner with another man since high school, and it’s just Connor. He’s safe.

She has no idea how wrong she is. Sully is not safe to be alone around. The bedroom door opens behind me.

"You ready?" Sully asks, stopping when he sees me laughing at my phone.

"Um, yeah …” I answer, distracted. He gives me a look.

Ember: You owe me.

Cassidy: I know. Love you. Have fun.

"So ..." I start. "It’s only going to be us tonight. Cass just canceled. She’s working late at Nelly’s.”

He studies me for a second. “Seems rather late.”

“Apparently, he had organized takeout so they could run over some plans. It’s our first job, you know, we want to make sure we launch right. So, we might be going over and above right now. But he is letting us document the process for our socials, so …”

He nods, taking in all the bullshit that I just spewed at him.

"We don't have to go," I say, tucking my phone into my handbag.

"Oh, I've been looking forward to trying that restaurant."

"So have I," I confess.

“Then let’s go.” He smiles softly.

“Won’t it be weird now it’s just the two of us?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “No, just two friends having dinner, nothing weird about that. Plus, sounds like Cassidy is fine with it.”

She is, only because she has no idea what has been happening behind the scenes.

“Come on, I’m starved,” he says, heading toward the front door. I follow him. He holds the door open for me. "After you." I walk past him, catching the familiar scent of his cologne.

This is not a date.

We walk down the street to this cute Italian place we pass all the time but haven’t had a chance to go into until now. The restaurant is tucked away on a quiet corner, with warm golden light spilling out onto the sidewalk from the large windows. The sign above the door reads "Nonna Rosa" in elegant script, and the smell of garlic, fresh basil, and baking bread hits me the second we step inside.

The interior is cozy and romantic, with exposed brick walls, soft lighting from hanging Edison bulbs, wooden tables with crisp white tablecloths, and little vases of fresh flowers on each table. Jazz music plays softly in the background, and the place is busy but not loud. It feels intimate, too intimate for "just friends".

The hostess leads us to a small table by the window. Sully pulls out my chair for me before sitting across from me. The candle on the table flickers between us, casting soft shadows on his face. He looks good tonight, dark button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up, showing off his forearms. He’s smiling at me over his menu, that easy, charming smile that makes my stomach flip.

We order a bottle of red wine and some appetizers; calamari, bruschetta, and a charcuterie board. The conversation flows easily at first, the business, the upcoming training camp, and funny stories about the guys. But the longer we sit here, the more the "friends" label feels like a thin veil because I can’t stop checking him out, along with a lot of other women tonight.

“This place is nice,” I say, trying to keep things light. “I can see why you wanted to come here.”