Page 11

Chapter Eleven

Theodore

I’m running late thanks to a meeting that went over our time and the traffic I got stuck in.

When I burst through the doors of the restaurant, I find Tobias sitting on the bench to the side.

He glances up from his phone and my heart skips a damn beat.

How did he get hotter? Is that possible? It must be, because he is.

He’s in a navy-blue sweater with a white polka dot button up beneath. His sleeves are rolled up, and if that isn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, the way his khakis hug his thighs and bulge, very well could be.

“You okay?” he asks, suddenly standing right in front of me.

How did he get so close?

Why is he so close?

“Fine,” I choke out.

“You’re late.”

“Yeah, I, uh…" I clear my th roat. "Meeting.”

“Shall we?” He gestures to the host, and I nod, heading that way.

The young man behind the podium smiles. “Good evening, do you have a reservation?”

“Yes. It’s under Beaumont," I answer.

“Right this way, please,” he says after checking his iPad. He grabs two menus, and we follow him to a table in the back, by a large window that overlooks the bay. It’s a beautiful view during the day. Now that it’s dark, you can hardly make out a thing other than the blurry lights across the way.

“So, what kind of meeting did you have?” Tobias asks once the host takes off back to his post, promising the waiter will be over in a moment.

“Just some changes my father is making in the company.”

“He owns this company?” he asks.

“He does.”

“And you’ll inherit it one day?” he guesses.

“That’s right.”

“But only if you do everything he says?”

I frown. “Can you wait until after I’ve had a drink to say things like that?”

He holds up his hands in apology, but his smile is blinding.

“Gentlemen, how are you tonight?” the waiter asks when he reaches the table. He’s an older guy with grey hair that’s pulled back into a thin ponytail, and a neat short beard.

“Couldn’t be better,” Tobias says.

“Glad to hear it. Can I start you off with a drink? ”

“Scotch, please,” Tobias says.

“Same,” I answer.

“While I get that for you, may I suggest looking over the appetizer menu? We have a few new items that may interest you.”

He leaves us and I glance over the menu but don’t see anything that’s there.

I’m nervous in a whole different way than I was last time.

The first date was innocent. I was doing it to figure something out.

It wasn’t about who I was going on the date with, but because I needed an answer to a question about myself.

But now I’m here because of Tobias, and that just feels wrong.

Like I’m cheating. This is a line I've never crossed before.

“Do you think I’m cheating on my fiancée?” I blurt out.

Tobias looks up at me from under his lashes. “Like in general or…”

“Being here,” I say. “This.”

“Oh.” He puts his menu down. “Cheating is a funny thing.”

“How so?”

“Everyone has a different idea of what it means.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, not hiding my frustration. Panic is swelling in my chest.

With a sigh, he says, “If you found out your fiancée was doing this, would you think it was cheating?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d care, because I’d be relieved. ”

“Unhelpful,” he says. “What if you were dating someone you wanted to be with. Someone you loved and knew you could marry and be happy with. If they were doing this, would it be cheating?”

“Yes.”

“Then there’s your answer,” he says, going back to his menu.

I frown. “That isn’t an answer.”

“Then ask your fiancée what she thinks. I don’t know what to tell you.” I stare at him, unblinking. When he looks up, our eyes meet and after a moment, he says, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head.

“I will if you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to,” I say adamantly.

The waiter drops off our drinks and I ask him to suggest an appetizer for us because we aren’t picky. He happily obliges.

“So, you owe me an answer,” he says, completely changing gears. Maybe it’s for the best.

I sigh. “I just needed more proof.”

“That you’re into guys?” I nod. “And you couldn’t do that on your own?”

“Why do you sound like you don’t want to be here?”

“I’m—”

“You could have denied the request for a date with me. I would have heard you loud and clear," I say defensively .

“That’s not what I’m trying to say. Why are you so grumpy today?”

I blink a few times, then lean back in my chair. “Sorry, I’m just stressed out.”

Understatement. I am so fucking stressed out, and it only seems to be getting worse the longer I sit here, but it isn't enough to make me get up and leave.

“Clearly.”

The appetizer is dropped off and we pick at it without speaking to one another. Our food orders go in, and then we wait in awkward silence. Until I can’t take it anymore.

“Do you ever sleep with dates?” I ask.

“Are you asking because you want me to sleep with you? Because that would be a bad idea.”

He didn’t say he doesn’t want to sleep with me… but that's not the way I should be thinking.

“Why would it be a bad idea?” I’m offended he would say that. What about me is a bad idea? I'm a very nice guy.

“No offense, but I can’t have you getting attached.”

No offense? Is he serious?

“Why in the world do you think that would happen?”

“You want my honesty?”

I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Yes, I do.”

Tobias sighs, reaching for his drink to take a sip before answering.

“You’re vulnerable and curious. You’re stressed out with your life and from what I see of you, I think being with a man would make you happy.

I think you’d misplace your feelings, get attached to me because I’ve been nice, you’re comfortable with me, and then I would be your first.” He takes another sip, adding, “And I’m amazing in bed, so—”

I choke out a laugh, feeling entirely insulted by everything he just said but also humored. “That’s really what you think about me?”

He shrugs. “You’re not the first guy I’ve met who has questioned their sexuality. Gay men living straight lives are messy. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Not to mention, you’re still with a woman. You have no idea what you want, and I can’t get caught in the crossfire of that.”

“Well, damn, Tobias. Thanks for being nice about it.”

“You said you wanted honesty.”

I scoff again.

He narrows his eyes, then scoots his chair out. “I think it’s best that I go.”

“No, don’t,” I say just as he moves to get up. His eyes lock with mine. “Please?”

He sighs but sits back down.

“Let’s stay off the subject and talk about something safe,” I suggest. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make this weird.”

“It’s partly my fault for emailing and texting you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Yet you did…

Which is why it’s confusing. He let his guard slip, and that means something.

Though he threw it right back into place, it could slip again…

He let it slip for a reason. He’s talking about me being vulnerable and messy, but here he is breaking rules for me.

Of course, this could just be his game and how he gets people to book dates with him.

What the hell do I know? I don’t, and I guess it doesn’t matter. I’m paying him to be here.

“How are things with the wedding coming along?”

I gape at him. “Seriously? That’s what you want to talk about?”

“Fine,” he says patiently. “What do you want to talk about?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, grateful when the waiter shows up with our food.

The rest of dinner is awkward as hell. This is nothing like our first date.

When we’re done eating, I pay the bill, and we make our way outside where we order rides.

Both of which should be here in about fifteen minutes.

There was no suggestion of sharing a ride tonight, and certainly no suggestion of making the night last longer.

“I’m sorry,” Tobias says. “That is not what you paid for and definitely not—”

I hold my hand up. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” he says adamantly, stepping up to me.

“Really, it’s fine. I don’t care about the money, Tobias.”

“Let me at least give you another to make up for it?” he says.

“That’s probably not a good idea.”

“Okay… then let me offer you something else. ”

I shove my hands into my pockets, hunching my shoulders as the wind picks up, causing the misty rain to smack me in the face.

“What could you possibly have to offer me?”

He frowns and I realize immediately that it came out wrong, but I don’t apologize.

I’m too tired. Today was awkward and I don’t know what I was thinking when booking another date with him for no reason other than wanting to spend time with him.

That’s not what this is about. It’s not how his job works.

Everything about this is wrong, and it was stupid.

I have my answer. I know what I need to do.

Now it’s up to me to go and do it. Tobias is not a part of this.

“Let’s be friends.”

My brows shoot up. “Excuse me?”

“Friends.” He repeats the word simply. “No more paid dates. No more dates at all. Just… friends.”

“You want to be my friend?”

“Yes.”

I narrow my eyes. “Why?”

He shrugs, glancing at his phone before shoving it in his coat pocket.

“Because I think you need a friend.”

I huff out a laugh. “I have friends.”

“No offense, but they’re doing something wrong if you had to come to me over this.”

“They’re just…” I say quickly in defense of Asher and Morgan, but I don’t know how I want to finish that sentence.

Th ey are good friends, and they know about this situation with me, since they’re the ones who pushed me to go on the date, but I know what Tobias means.

It’s not just about being open about it, it’s more than that.

Something deeper, more personal, that I didn’t feel comfortable sharing with Asher and Morgan.

“Okay,” I finally say with a head nod, offering out my hand. “Friends.”

He grins that blindingly handsome smile that nearly knocks me on my ass. Then he takes my hand, but we don’t shake. He just holds it as firmly as he holds my stare. How the hell am I going to be friends with this man? And what game is he playing?