Page 10 of Catch a Tiger

“I think I might die if we do that,” she blurts. Embarrassed, she grimaces. Did she really say that out loud? She’s losing her shit.

He cocks his head to the side. “Die? Would a date with me be so bad?”

“No!” she nearly shouts. Everyone seated at the nearby tables turns to look at her, and the blush creeps down her neck. Quieter, she adds, “I mean, I’m me and you’re you and . . .” She gulps and his quizzical gaze follows the movement of her throat. “Look, I don’t date guys like you. Or better yet, guys like you don’t date me.”

He moves his eyes from her throat and frowns at her. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re a Greek god and I’m . . .” She refuses to call herself a fat toad to this guy’s face. “I’m just me.”

He invades her space and bends down to whisper in her ear, “You’re not the only one who has an attraction right now.”

Heat rises from her neck and creeps over her cheeks as he pulls away. “Isn’t a skinny blonde more your type?” she asks.

“No,” is his only answer. He has a straight face too, so he’s definitely not lying. It just serves to confuse her more.

“Oh.” It’s the only thing she can think of to say. God, she’s sounding like an idiot today. How is she supposed to go on a date with him if she keeps embarrassing herself?

“Pick you up at seven?”

“O-okay.”

He removes his hand from overtop of hers and slides it into his pocket. “Where do you live?”

She rattles off her address like it’s perfectly normal to tell a stranger where you live. A hot stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. Her parents would be so disappointed in her right now.

“Good. I’ll see you then.” Without another word, he turns and walks away, leaving her holding her breath. At any minute, he could turn around and tell her that he’s joking, but when he leaves the shop entirely, she knows that he’s not.

She stands there for a few minutes. Customers weave around her still body. Her heartbeat slowly returns to normal, and on numb feet, she leaves The Brew and gets into her car.

The entire way home, she chastises herself for such a stupid, stupid mistake. Honestly, this isn’t what she thought would happen when she pressed that ‘in a relationship’ button. She expected nothing to become of it. Not this.

When she arrives home, she rushes into the apartment. She has two hours to shower and do her hair and make-up. Not to mention the perfect outfit. One that hides her curves.

As soon as she flings open the door, she quickly crosses the small kitchen that Darius keeps so clean that someone could perform surgery in it. She drops her purse on the counter and strides with purpose into the boxed-in living room. The TV is on, but playing softly, and Darius sits on the couch with a phone to his ear, ordering takeout.

She picks up her pace and jogs past him and into the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. He shouts after her, “Where’s the fire?”

“Can’t talk now! I have to get ready!”

And that only serves for him to follow her into the bathroom and pepper her with questions.

Chapter 5

Mark

Mark waits outside the apartment building and checks his watch one more time.

She’s late.

Ten minutes late to be exact.

He’d call her, but he was stupid and didn’t get her number. He was stupid because her profile picture didn’t do her justice. She’s striking, and though he doesn’t normally go for women who dye their hair with any color of the rainbow, it suits her and her personality.

He can tell she’s a spitfire, even though he made her nervous. The nervousness was adorable, but most women are nervous around him. He’s been told it’s because he’s beautiful, and maybe he is, but sometimes he just wants someone to be normal around him. Her, however, he found endearing. He likes that he makes her nervous. She should be nervous. He wants to devour every inch of her.

When she had commented about someone like him dating someone like her, it really irked him. She thinks he’s out of her league and it’s telling that she doesn’t think highly of herself. Yes, she’s overweight, but he’s always like his women bigger. He likes something to hold on to when he pulls them into a hug or fucks them from behind.

He rakes a hand through his hair. “Fucks them from behind?” he mutters into the car’s vacant space. “Really, Mark?”