Page 35 of Can't Stop Watching

"But—"

"The meal was excellent, the company even better." He opens the folder, glances at the total without reaction, and slides his card inside. "Next time, I'm taking you to Daniel," he says, casual as if suggesting a Starbucks run.

My eyes widen. Even I know that place. "That's like, what, three hundred bucks a person?"

"Give or take."

"Are you trying to bankrupt yourself?" I blurt out. "Because there are cheaper ways to do that. I hear crypto is popular."

He actually laughs at that, a quiet rumble that does funny things to my insides.

"I'm not worried about the money." His eyes lock with mine, sudden intensity making my breath catch. "You have nothing to worry about, Lila. Not with me."

Something in the way he says it—like a promise wrapped in steel—makes me believe him. And that's terrifying in a completely different way.

"Well," I recover, raising my nearly-empty wine glass, "in that case, I'll be ordering the lobster next time."

"Order whatever you want." The look he gives me suggests he's not just talking about food. My brain immediately takes a detour into territory that would make my roommate high-five me and my mother disown me. Like asking him to show me exactly what that mouth can do besides order expensive wine.

My phone vibrates against the table, the screen lighting up with Tessa's name. Dane glances at it but doesn't comment, signaling for the waiter instead.

"Sorry," I murmur, picking up my phone.

Tessa: Everything ok? Should I go home or do you need rescue?

Her text is followed by three eyeball emojis.

I bite my lip, glancing up at Dane who's signing the check. God, his hands are nice. Steady, strong, with those little scars across his knuckles that hint at stories he's not telling.

I quickly type a reply.

Lila: All good. Letting him take me home.

Three dots appear immediately, then…

Tessa: HOME HOME? Like to your apartment home? Like will he be doing dirty things to you home?

Heat creeps into my face. Only Tessa could make me blush this hard via text message. I angle the phone away slightly, paranoid that Dane can somehow see my screen.

Lila: Jesus, Tess! Cool your jets. Just a ride home.

I hesitate, then add…

Lila: Though if he wanted to do dirty things, I wouldn't say no.

Her response is instant.

Tessa: FINALLY! Wear the black lace! The good one! Not the Target one!

"Everything okay?"

I nearly drop my phone at Dane's voice. He's watching me with those too-perceptive eyes, like he can read my thoughts about black lace and his hands.

"Fine! Just Tessa checking in." I slide my phone into my purse. "She has this whole system where she makes sure I'm not being murdered on dates."

"Tessa?" Dane asks, his eyebrow lifting with something that looks suspiciously like amusement. "Would that be the woman in the cashmere sweater who walked in exactly five minutes after you did and has been sitting at the bar pretending not to watch us all night?"

My jaw drops. Literally drops, like in cartoons, except there's no comical sound effect—just the horrifying realization that my brilliant spy operation was about as subtle as a neon sign.