Oh my God, tomorrow was Sunday, which was a big duh, because that day always came after Saturday, but tomorrow would be a different Sunday. It would be the first one after our date. Would we still be doing eggs? What if the date did end up turning into a tomorrow morning thing? I wasn’t naive. Cam could easily expect that this date was going to lead somewhere.
In my reflection, my eyes were unnaturally wide in the mirror and the mascara wand was dangerously close to my eyeball.
The date was so not leading to my bedroom because it looked like Old Navy had thrown up in there.
Okay. I was being stupid. Tomorrow would be no different than today. Tonight was not going to become a sex-fueled all-nighter for several reasons. And there was no reason for me to act like I had no idea that Sunday was the day after Saturday.
Finishing my little come to Jesus pep talk, I forced myself out of the bathroom. The nervous excitement humming through my veins wasn’t a bad feeling. It was quite… different, like a good kind of anxiousness. I was literally two seconds away from doing a little ass shaking jig in the middle of my living room when Cam showed up.
He stepped into my apartment, his gaze starting at the top of my head and making it all the way down to the pointy tips of my black boots. Amazing how a look could feel like a touch and I felt it in a way that put my earlier edginess to shame.
Cam cleared his throat. “You look… really, really great.”
I flushed. “Thank you. So do you.”
And that was the freaking truth. Cam was just in dark jeans, a black v-neck sweater that stretched across his broad shoulders and with his dark hair tumbling over his forehead and the slight half grin on his face, he was absolutely stunning. So much so, I sort of wondered what I was doing here, about to go out on a date with him.
“You ready? Got a jacket?”
Snapping out of it, I nodded and raced back to my bedroom, nearly eating the floor when my heel snagged in a sweater. I grabbed my coat and slid it on as I joined him. Amusement glimmered in his eyes as he picked my purse up off the back of the couch. Feeling about nine kinds of awkward, I thanked him.
“Ready,” I said, breathless.
“Not quite yet.” Cam reached out and started pushing the large buttons on my coat through the holes. “It’s freezing outside.”
I just stood there, absolutely still and enthralled by the simple act. He’d started at the bottom and as he worked his way up, my pulse thudded. I held my breath as he neared my chest. The sides of his hands brushed across the front of my coat and I stiffened. Layers of clothing vanished as an unexpected jolt of heat shot to the tips of my breasts.
“Perfect,” he murmured. Through his lashes, his eyes were a heated, startling cobalt. “Now we’re ready.”
All I could do was stare at him for a moment and then I had to force my legs, which felt wobbly, forward. The moment we stepped out into the hall, Cam’s apartment door flung open.
Ollie appeared, a cellphone in one hand and Raphael wiggling in the other. “Smile!” he shouted as he snapped a picture on his phone. “It’s like my two kids are going to prom.”
Both Cam and I were dumbstruck.
Ollie beamed. “Putting this in my scrapbook. Have fun!” He popped back into their apartment, closing the door behind him.
“Um…”
Cam laughed loudly. “Oh God, that was different.”
“He doesn’t normally do that?”
“No.” He laughed again, putting his hand on my lower back. “Let’s get out of here before he tries to go along with us.”
I grinned. “With Raphael?”
“Raphael would be welcomed. Ollie, however, would not be.” He grinned as we hit the steps. “The last thing I’d want is for you to be distracted on this date.”
Distracted? I already was.
Chapter 16
By the time the bread arrived with our drinks and was placed on the glossy square table between us, I’d gotten better control of my breathing. The nervousness returned in the truck ride to the restaurant, though Cam didn’t seem to notice and was completely at ease.
I spent way too much time pouring over the menu as I resisted the urge to start chewing on my pretty nails.
Cam nudged me under the table with his foot and I looked up. “What?”
He nodded to my left, and I saw the waiter standing there with a smile. “Oh, um, can I get the…” I picked the first thing my eyes centered on. “Chicken marsala?”
The waiter scribbled that down and then Cam ordered a steak, medium rare with a side salad, and baked potato. When the waiter left, Cam went for the bread. “Want a piece?”
“Sure.” I hoped I didn’t choke on it. I watched him slice a piece in half and then butter it up. “Thank you.”
He arched a brow, but said nothing as I nibbled the bread, a tiny piece at a time. I racked my brain for something, anything to say. It didn’t even have to be interesting. I just needed to speak. For some reason, the conversation he’d had with Ollie resurfaced and I latched onto it. “Do you play any sports?”
Cam blinked as if caught off guard.
I flushed. “Sorry. That’s really random.”
“It’s okay.” He chewed the bread slowly. “I used to play.”
Thankful that he was playing along, I relaxed a little. “What sport?”
He cut off another slice of bread. “I played soccer.”
“Really?” Why were all soccer players hot? Was it some kind of universal law of soccer? “What position?”
Even though I knew Cam probably suspected I didn’t know squat about soccer, he went along with it. “I was a striker, which is a middle player position.”
“Oh!” I nodded like I had a clue what any of that meant.
Cam flashed that dimple. “That means I did a lot of scoring.”
“So you were good?”
“I was decent. Had to be fast, so a lot of running.”
That’s pretty much all I knew about soccer—a lot of running. “Did you play in high school?”
“High school, rec league, and my first year of college.”
I dared another bite of bread. So far so good. “Why’d you stop?”
Cam opened his mouth, but then closed it. Staring over my shoulder, several moments passed before he shrugged. “Just not something I wanted to do anymore.”
I was the queen of giving evasive answers, so I knew one when I heard one. And I so wanted to dig deeper and find out more, but I had given the same lame answer when he’d asked me about dancing. I wasn’t really in the position to push.
His ultra bright gaze settled on me and in the dim lighting, I felt my face turn a deeper shade of pink. Jesus, I needed to stop blushing.
He chuckled, and I wanted to throw my bread in his face. “Avery…”
“Cam?”
He leaned over onto the table and the small candle in the center sent dancing shadows across his face. “You don’t have to be so nervous.”
“I’m not.”
His brows rose.
I sighed. “Okay. I am. Sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing? You don’t need to. This is your first date.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” I muttered.
His lips twitched as if he wished to smile. “It’s not a bad thing. You’re going to be nervous.”
“You’re not.”
“That’s because I’m awesome.”
I rolled my eyes.
He laughed, and the sound was deep and rich. “You just don’t have to be. I want to be here with you, Avery. You don’t have to worry about impressing me or wowing me. You’ve already done that.”
“That’s…” I shook my head, ignoring the lump in my throat. I stared at him. “You’re just so… I don’t know. You just know what to say to…”
“To?”
I tucked my hair back and then dropped my hand in my lap. It was shaking. “You just say the right stuff.”
“It’s because I’m—”
“Awesome,” I supplied. “I know that.”
Cam leaned back. “I wasn’t going to say that, but I’m glad you’re starting to realize my awesomeness.”
“Then what were you going to say?”