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“Thank you,” I whisper. “No one has ever …”
His brow lifts. “I’m not no one, Alexis.”
The silence draws out between us.
“I’m going to have a lot of fun spoiling you,” he mutters, giving me that damn smirk.
I scan over the man my arm will be hooked to all night, maybe for a year. “I assume it’s a black-tie affair?”
He nods.
“What would you have done had I said no? After you went through all this trouble?”
“I knew you’d join me,” he admits.
“Cocky.”
“It’s my middle name.”
When I meet his eyes in the reflection, I can see he’s nervous too. It’s barely there, but I spot it. He doesn’t know if we’ll actually pull this off. He has doubts.
“I’m glad you’re joining me because, had you declined, I’d have considered skipping. Truth,” he says without hesitation.
I turn to face him, taking a few steps forward, closing the space. “Why?”
“I prefer the quiet. It takes a lot for me to be in large crowds, but I adapt when needed.”
“I had no idea,” I say. “But I get it.”
“It’s why a lot of people think I’m a coldhearted bastard,” he admits.
“Wait … you’re not?” I crack a smile.
“I guess that’s still to be determined.” His eyes slide over me. “That dress suits you.”
“Thanks. My stalker picked it out,” I say in a light tone, spinning around for him.
“It looks exactly how I imagined.Fucking gorgeous.”
I think my heart flutters as unspoken words linger.
“So, does this officially count as day one?” I jokingly ask, hoping he can’t hear my racing heart.
I remember what he said about only being able to date someone for a total of two weeks before it’s over, but when does the counter start? Not that he’s interested in me. This isa business transactiononly. I’m curious as to when he’ll grow tired of me, and if he changes, how he acts on day fifteen.
“Technically, we’re oneight,” he confirms, adjusting his cufflink.
“So, it starts the day you meet someone?” I ask, walking past him.
“No, it starts when I can’t get the person out of my fucking head.”
I look directly into his eyes, knowing it’s one of his truths. One that I understand, but also one that I can’t fully unpack right now so I don’t.
“So, tonight is about reassurance, to make sure you’re not making a mistake, correct?” I quickly change the subject and bring the conversation back on track.
“Yes,” he sighs. “I don’t like performing like a puppet. Ihaveto.”
I see him, see his sadness.