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“Bullshit.” I glare at him across the desk.
He laughs again, practically fucking cackles. “This is priceless, dude. Liam Donovan hung up on a girl.”
“Fuck you, man,” I grind out, shoving my chair back from my desk and stalking over to a table near the door. Is it too early for drinking? Now I’m not only conflicted over these out-of-nowhere and totally unfamiliar thoughts and feelings, but the guy who’s supposed to have my back is mocking me.
Connor turns and watches me pour a drink from my crystal decanter, his eyes narrowing. When I come back to the desk and sit back down, holding the drink but not yet tasting it, he looks at me more in shock than amusement.
“Okay. Wow. Obviously I hit a nerve. Sorry, dude. Want to talk about it?”
Do I? I’m not sure. Connor isn’t acting like a dick now, but I don’t know how I feel about telling him about Cara.
Ultimately, I decide to. He’s a smart guy. Always acting like my shrink and shit. Maybe he can give me some advice.
“So, I met this girl at the swim club the other day.” I proceed to tell him all about the mojito incident, about how I couldn’t get her off my mind the next day, and then about our date last night. Obviously I leave out all the sexy details because I’m not actually a total douche like the media makes me out to be.
When I’m done, I lean back and wait.
“Wow,” Connor says again, his lips curved in a disbelieving smile. “Never thought I’d see the day Liam Donovan was still hung up on a woman he’s already had sex with.”
Right?
But I can’t seem to get enough of her. “I don’t know what it is about her, man. But all I can think about is seeing her again. And not just because I want to fuck her. But I just want to be around her.”
I feel like such a pussy saying that shit, but it’s the truth. Connor doesn’t judge me, though. Hell, he’s been the one giving me hell for my string of one-night stands.
He’s watching me carefully, the wheels in his head obviously turning. “Well, obviously there’s something different about her. Maybe you need to figure out what that is. Maybe a second date is in order.”
I mull that over for a minute. A second date sounds like exactly what I want. But I’m not a second-date kind of guy. I don’t let myself get close. I have my reasons, none of which I care to think about, let alone discuss right now.
“You know that’s not me, Connor.”
“Hasn’t been before. Doesn’t mean it can’t be now. It’s about time you found the right one, dude.”
I scoff. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. We’re just talking about second dates here.”
But I think about what Conner said. The fact that I can’t stop thinking about Cara and that the idea of a second date has me ready to leap for the phone has to mean something. What if she could be the one? There’s definitely something different about her. Something special. Not at all like the women I know.
And I’d be a fool to turn my ba
ck on that without finding out if there’s something more between us. As much as that goes against everything I’ve worked hard to avoid, it’s not enough to stop me.
I grab my phone, glancing up at Connor, and I feel a grin creep across my face.
He smiles back, encouraging me despite the look of sheer disbelief still displayed on his face.
Cara picks up on the third ring. “Liam.”
An unfamiliar feeling hits me smack in the chest, and it takes me a minute to respond. “Cara, what are you doing later?”
Cara
“And now the wine!” Léo proclaims excitedly, pushing a bottle of red into my hands. I look apprehensively at the chicken meat in the pot, and then tilt the bottle down, bathing the meat with red wine. “Good, good!” He cries out in his thick French accent, grabbing my hands and making me stop. “You have a knack for it!”
“Oh, I really doubt that,” I chuckle, wondering if I’ll ever be able to reproduce in my own kitchen what I’m doing here. I’ve always been a disaster when it came to cooking, and I seriously doubt that even a master chef like Léo will be able to change that. Still, no harm in trying, right?
If you’re wondering why I’m standing in the middle of Léo Moreau’s kitchen with an apron tied around my waist, that’s because Liam brought me here. Apparently, he thought that cooking lessons would be the perfect setting for a second date - and, guess what? He was absolutely right. This is challenging and, at the same time, fun. It sure as hell beats leaning against the counter of a bar and downing tequila shots in a frenzy - although, yeah, that can be fun as well.
“See? You’re not as bad at it as you said,” Liam laughs, sprinkling pepper over the chicken meat and then lowering the heat into a simmer.
