Page 22 of Risky Little Affair
Of course he wants to talk about that bullet point.
5. Both parties will keep this agreement a secret from our friends.
ME: On my way to the dorms now. What time?
MICAH: I’ll see you in twenty.
Twenty minutes? Hell, I better haul ass if I want to look less like a frumpy freshman and more like the mature adult I’m pretending to be. A woman who can make a list of rules dictating everything she wants in a relationship.
There’s that word again. We’re going to need to define what this is. I don’t like the scandalous feeling I’m getting right now and telling people doesn’t seem like a good idea. Not yet anyway. Then they’ll ask questions, and I don’t have any answers for them.
It’s the first test in my life I would fail with flying colors.
When Micah saidhe wanted to take me out on a date, I expected something low-key. You know, a chain restaurant where the waiters wear colorful polo shirts with black aprons, the company logo embroidered everywhere so you don’t forget where you chose to spend your money. Cheap appetizers and even cheaper drinks. Sports playing on the TV’s that are in every corner of the restaurant.
Even with those expectations in mind, I borrowed a cute summer dress from Piper’s closet and paired it with my favorite, and only, wedge heels. I wanted to look cute for him and our first ‘date’. I wanted to get a reaction out of Micah when he first saw me.
My wish was granted. His mouth popped open, and his eyes appraised me from head to toe before he pushed his way into my dorm and stole my breath with a kiss so passionate, I thought we might not leave.
We can negotiate naked, right?
To my surprise, he laced our fingers together and pulled me out the door, adjusting the bulge in his pants.
His very tight, black slacks. They accentuated his gorgeous, round ass, narrow waist, and long legs. His stark white, button-down dress shirt stood out against his bronzed skin. The top button was left unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked like sex wrapped up in a perfect package, especially with the dimple in his chin winking at me every time he smiled my direction.
Which was the entire way to his car as he held my hand.
The list was tucked in my purse, calling to me during the drive to the restaurant. Instead, I let Micah lead the conversation. From Declan and Kendall keeping him up the night before with their moans to bumping into Dec in the kitchen, naked, in the middle of the night. Their relationship was hot and heavy, driving Micah crazy.
I can’t blame him.
I would be irritated if I couldn’t fall asleep in my room because Piper was screaming someone’s name.
Not that I didn’t laugh at the situation. What else can you do? You can’t stop them from fucking like rabbits. And Declan has as much of a claim on that apartment as Micah does. Maybe Declan needs a dose of his own medicine.
The words are on the tip of my tongue as Micah pulls up in front of the Grand River Plaza hotel. He shifts the car into park as a valet rushes around to open his door for him. Micah steps around the front of the car, his eyes trained on mine. When he opens my door for me, he extends his hand, and I place my palm in his.
I’m so caught up in the moment that I forget I’m still wearing my seat belt.
Talk about embarrassing.
I lean forward, twisting my body, and then I’m lurched backward, pulling Micah with me. He chuckles as heat creeps into my cheeks, leaning in to unclasp the belt for me when I start fumbling.
My eyes go wide with surprise when we walk into the restaurant. We definitely aren’t at our local bar and grill. There isn’t a TV or neon sign in sight. No loud music playing today’s greatest pop ballads. No brightly colored polo shirts or mismatched framed pictures adorning every available inch of the walls.
To my left is a large window displaying an impressive wine cellar. An older couple is inside, browsing the selection. Pulling bottles down and studying them. A man in a black suit approaches, I’m guessing the manager, and reaches up high to pull down a bottle for them. The woman laughs, while the men share a knowing look. It must have been the perfect bottle because the three of them disappear with the bottle in hand.
In front of us, tables draped in white linen are adorned with candlelit centerpieces. Linen napkins are folded to look like flowers, stuffed into large water glasses at each place setting.
The staff is dressed in black and white, similar to Micah. Everyone is wearing a tie, including the girls. The staff looks perfectly manicured, and their aprons hang past their knees. Smiles bright and sincere.
He made a reservation, so we are shown to a private booth toward the back of the restaurant. My eyes flicker around the room as we take our seats, taking in every little detail. I’ve never been in a restaurant that nice. I suddenly felt underdressed and out of place. But as I’m about to protest, Micah reaches across the table and takes my hand in his.
“I believe we have business to discuss,” he says, his voice low and filled with promise.
“This place is really nice. Too nice,” I emphasize.
“You like it?” His eyes light up in anticipation of my answer. That’s when it hits me that Micah is trying to impress me. And he thinks money is the way to do it. The thing is, when money isn’t part of your life, when you’ve never had any, you didn’t dare dream of eating in a place like this. Or even working here.