Page 21 of Can't Stop Watching

"And? That's supposed to be a negative?" Tessa raises one perfectly groomed eyebrow. "After the man-children you've dated here who think foreplay is asking if you're 'down to smash'?"

I snort despite myself. "That was one guy, and I never actually dated him."

"My point stands. Maybe someone more mature would be good for you." Her voice softens. "Not every older guy is... you know. Besides he's not that old."

The unspoken name hangs between us. Mr. Colton. Dane is probably around the same age as him.

Except you're not seventeen anymore, Lila.

"I just—" I drag a hand through my hair, messing up whatever remained of this morning's attempt at styling. "I told you how intense he is. And I don't do intense."

"There's a difference between intense and dangerous, Li."

"Is there?" I challenge. "Because from where I'm standing, they look pretty damn similar."

Tessa sighs, defeated for now. "Fine. But answer me this: did you want to say yes?"

I bite my lip, remembering how my heart had stuttered when Dane leaned against the bar, his gaze locked on mine. How for a split second, I'd imagined saying yes.

"That's not the point."

"That," Tessa says with the triumphant smile of someone who's just won an argument, "is exactly the point."

"He did say something else before he left." I adjust my bag strap, avoiding Tessa's laser-focused gaze. "That the dinner 'stands' if I change my mind."

"And he just left it at that? No pressure?" Tessa's eyebrows shoot up. "That's... actually kind of refreshing."

"Yeah." I kick at a stray pebble on the sidewalk. "No 'why not' or 'come on, just one drink.' He just nodded and left a twenty-dollar tip on a ten-dollar whiskey."

"So he respects boundariesandtips well? What's the problem?" Tessa steps in front of me, blocking my path. "Look, if you're really that nervous, we can set it up somewhere totally safe. Bright lighting, public place, the works."

I snort. "What, like the Natural History Museum with those creepy whale models watching us eat?"

"I was thinking more Luciano's." She grabs my arm excitedly. "And I could be your support and be there incognito! Like we did with that TikTok poet who turned out to have a shrine to his ex in his closet."

"God, don't remind me." I rub my temples, remembering the framed locks of hair. "You really think I should do this?"

"I think you haven't had that look in your eyes about someone in... well, ever, actually." Tessa softens her voice. "Plus, I can sit at the bar. One text and I'll create a diversion so magnificent they'll talk about it in acting classes for generations."

The image of Tessa faking a dramatic fainting spell in the middle of Luciano's makes me laugh despite myself.

"I haven't said yes to anything," I protest weakly.

"But you want to." She pokes me in the shoulder. "Admit it. You're curious about Detective Danger."

"Detective Danger? Really?"

"Working title. I'll workshop it." She grins. "Just say yes, and if it sucks, we'll go back to my place, drink expensive wine my parents sent, and you can tell me all the ways he disappointed you."

I sigh, already knowing I'm going to cave. The truth is, I haven't been able to stop thinking about those gray eyes, the way they see right through me. "Fine. If—if—I decide to go, you promise to be my backup?"

Tessa mimes crossing her heart. "One SOS text and I'll have you out of there faster than you can say 'check please.'"

My Tuesday shift crawls by at a glacial pace, and Wednesday doesn't look any better. I've wiped the counter exactly seventeen times, reorganized the top-shelf bottles twice, and checked my phone approximately every ninety seconds—not that I'm counting.

He's not coming.

"Another round, sweetheart?" The man at the end of the bar waves an empty glass at me.