“When is your date?” he finally asks, standing at the end of the couch. I try not to look, but I can’t help it. He looks good in fitted black jeans and a muscle-hugging gray henley; my eyes linger a little longer than they should.

“Next week.” I force my eyes back to my book.

“Did you meet him at work?” He places emphasis on the last word. I’d never date anyone I met at Charlie’s, but he doesn’t know that.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say someone is a little too curious—jealous even. “Hmm, kind of. Except he is a she, and it’s the type of date where there’s zero chance we’ll end up in bed together at the end of the night.”

“Sucks to be you.” His voice is lighter, teasing. Silence follows, but I know he’s still there. No footsteps. No doors opening or shutting. He’s appraising me . . . I feel it. He doesn’t have to report his findings because I guarantee the value isn’t all that high right now.

“Is this what you do every night?” he finally asks.

“Nothing better to do.” All I’ve done is read on my days off. It’s too cold to go out and explore more of the city, and my one attempt to get out of here and be social was a bust.

“I’m going with a couple guys to watch a band downtown. I think you should come.”

I shake my head without looking up. “No thanks.”

He yanks the quilt off my bare legs. My tiny cotton shorts seemed like a good idea until just a few seconds ago. “Maybe it’s not optional.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, Blake.” I try to pull the blanket from him, but he steps back until it’s out of my reach.

“If all you want to do is read, go ahead, but you’re bored. I can tell.”

I purse my lips, not at all sensitive to the fact that I have no make-up on. “How’s that?” I ask.

“For one thing,” he says, coming up next to me, “your reading machine is upside down. Kind of hard to read that way, don’t you think, Lemon Drop?”

Asshole. I flip my Kindle around. “I was just finishing a phone call. And why the hell do you keep calling me Lemon Drop?”

His thumb brushes against the corner of his mouth. “They remind me of you.”

“That’s one of the most asinine things I’ve ever heard.”

“Have you even left the apartment since Monday?”

I shake my head, trying to focus on my book. Maybe he’ll get the point and walk his sexy ass out of here. Not likely, but I can hope.

“Get dressed. We’re leaving in thirty minutes.”

Lifting my eyes back to his, I say, “I never agreed to go with you.”

He starts walking away. “And I never asked. Thirty minutes, Lila. Go!”

Blake yells at least six times to let me know the cab is waiting downstairs. I’ve been ready for a few minutes, but I want to keep him waiting, to either piss him off or make him leave without me. Maybe both.

I open the door to the outside, pulling my black coat tighter around my waist. I never asked what type of band we were going to see, or where they were playing. There’s a chance I’m overdressed or underdressed, but either way, I know I look good. A form fitting heather dress hits at my knees, black knee-high boots taking care of the rest of my exposed skin. The high neckline and long-sleeves may not be most people’s idea of sexy, but this dress hugs . . . everywhere.

I’m going to prove a point tonight. I’m not his toy to play around with; I never will be. It doesn’t mean I can’t dangle myself in front of him. Tonight is going to be about fun and games, and this time, I’m the master of ceremonies.

Irritation pours off him as I climb in the back seat. It’s enough to make my lips quirk with happiness.

“Next time, I’m going to lie about the time,” he remarks. I feel him staring at me, but I don’t meet it.

“Who said anything about a next time?”

He laughs. “You may not realize it now, but there will be. Getting people to do what I want is one of the many magical powers I possess.”

Rolling my eyes, I ask, “Are you saying you’re a wizard?”

“No, I’m saying I’m a clever person who’s unraveled the complex workings of the female mind. Believe me when I say it’s not that fucking easy.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Not crazy enough to keep you away from me.” Jerk.

The rest of the ride is quiet. It’s dark outside, but the lights of downtown illuminate the cab. Blake has been tense since our exchange, but I ignore him for the scenery. This is the first time I’ve been down here this time of day, but I can already tell I’m going to love it. There are so many people. So much radiant life and energy. With the Christmas lights decorating trees and buildings, I could easily get lost here.

The cab pulls down a side street, coming to a stop along the curb. “We’re here,” Blake announces, bumping his shoulder against mine.

Without much hesitation, I slide out, stepping onto the busy sidewalk while he pays. The air is cold, and when I inhale, a mixture of food tickles my senses. It reminds me that I forgot to eat dinner, which means any alcohol I drink will go straight to my head. Great.

“Ready?” Blake asks, bumping my shoulder again.

“Yep,” I reply, letting his touch guide me.

We end up in front of a blues club that advertises barbeque on the canopy; my stomach growls just thinking about it. “They serve food here?” I ask, sounding more desperate than I intended.

His mouth comes inches from my ear, his breath tickling my skin in his attempt to speak over the crowd. “Great food.”

I shiver. I don’t know if it’s him. Or the thought of smoked brisket. Or maybe the cold air.

He opens the door, his eyes scanning the packed room. I’d almost forgotten that we were coming here to meet some friends of his. Maybe I should have spent my time in the cab praying that they’re nothing like him.

The longhaired guy he was with at Charlie’s a few nights ago and another waves us over to a table in the corner. I’m pretty sure they’re smiling at us. I grimace, not liking the feeling of an us.

“Dude!” the guy I hadn’t met until now exclaims, “What the fuck took you so long?”

“Guys, this is Lila. Lila, this is Ronny,” he says, pointing to the guy with the loud mouth. “And this is Mark.” He points to the other guy, the one who was with him the other night. “Lila’s my new roommate, and she takes a long fucking time to get ready before going out.”

I slide my jacket off my shoulders, feeling three pairs of eyes staring at me. Blake’s fall to my chest before slowly coming back up. His mouth gapes open . . . exactly the reaction I was going for when I chose this dress.

“Sorry,” I say confidently. “I wasn’t planning on going out tonight so I had to throw myself together.”

“Doll face, you look anything but thrown together. Why don’t you slide in next to me,” Ronny remarks. By the way he looks at me, I can tell he’s a pig—the kind that works really hard to pick up a girl in a bar only to have her sneak out a side door to avoid him.

Because this is all harmless fun, I sit next to him in the booth. Blake slips in across from me. Our eyes connect. He sneers. I smile.

“So what band is playing?” I ask, tapping my fingers against the tabletop.

“The same one that plays every night,” Mark replies, breaking his silence.

“Oh.” Before I can ask anything else, a blonde waitress appears next to our table in a short black miniskirt and white top, buttoned down just enough to show the edge of her red lace bra.

“Can I get y’all something to drink?”

“Rum and Coke,” Mark says.

Ronny moves a little closer to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “I’ll take a Sam Adams and whatever Doll Face here wants.”

I shrug, hoping to shake him off, but I fail miserably. “I’ll take a shot of whiskey.”

“Make that two.” I catch Blake’s eyes across the table. He swallows hard then breaks contact.