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When Anthony told me to enjoy my date, it brought me a split-second of satisfaction, replaced by guilt, regret and the overwhelming sensation of wanting to cancel. If he had just answered his stupid phone, none of this would have escalated and I would’ve turned Nathan down.Goddamned Bonetti.

“How’s the studio coming along? Looks like you’ve made some solid headway with it.” Nathan’s smile is hopeful, probably praying I give him something more substantial than a hair toss and nod.

“It’s going great,” I reply, straightening my shoulders. “It’s a lot of hard work, but I’m loving it, because it’smyhard work. Even though it’s stressful as all hell.”

Nathan nods. “Opening your own business can really test you as a human being.”

I chuckle. “It sure can.”

I wonder what Nathan would look like with a shaved head and tattoos. Would he look as good as Ant-

“Have you had any issues with teenagers at your shop?” I ask quickly.

Nathan tilts his head in thought. “You mean the three musketeers who are always loitering around on their bikes?”

“That’d be them.”

Nathan shakes his head. “Never had any problems. Although to be fair, they used to keep to themselves in your warehouse before the landlord put the padlock on.”

I sigh. “Yeah, I gathered that much. They’re not too happy I’ve taken over their hangout. They left a not-so-friendly note the other day.”

Nathan looks thoughtful. “They strike me as the types that’d leave you alone for a small fee.”

“You mean, pay them to leave me alone?” I ask. “That’s opening a can of worms.”

“They’re deadbeat teenagers. They’ll do anything for a quick buck.”

Instinctively, I scrunch up my nose at his words. “I don’t think I need to go down that route.”

Nathan shrugs. “Fair enough. You want another drink?”

I glance at my half-full glass of wine. “I’m good.”

“How about a margarita?” he cuts in, wiggling his eyebrows. “Something tells me you’re a spicy marg kind of woman.”

I laugh. “You got me.”

Nathan waves to the nearest server and I lean back in my chair, watching as he orders us new drinks.

One margarita won’t hurt.

* * *

For someone who considers herself a seasoned drinker, I somehow failed miserably tonight.

Halfway through my second cocktail, I felt stupidly drunk. Nathan and I got chatty, and I somehow ended up focusing more on our conversation than eating the food on our table. But still, I was surprised when the wooziness crept up on me.

Everything spins on the drive home, exhaustion threatening my eyelids the entire journey. I didn’t realise how hard I’d been working lately until this moment.

Nathan realises he’s left his laptop at his shop, so we stop by before he drops me home. “I’ll just be a sec,” he sings out as he hops out of the car.

I open the passenger door. “All good. I need some fresh air anyway.” My feet land on the ground and suddenly everything tilts on an axis. I reach out and stumble against the side of the car. “Whoa.”

Nathan rushes around to me, concern etched on his blurry face. “You feel alright?”

“Turns out I’m a lightweight these days,” I mumble, using his arms to straighten myself up.

Nathan grins down at me. “Did you want to come inside for a bit? We could have a nightcap.”