I think he must be too into himself, which is why he didn't notice the sexy hostess trying to snag his attention. At least I’ll have something handsome to stare at while I eat my steak. He picked this place, so he can foot the bill. I already stole a peek at the menu and the prices aren't cheap. My one glass of wine at the bar was twenty bucks and I’m getting close to the bottom.
I turn to ask the woman taking us to our table to transfer the bill from the bar to our table, but I run right into a suited wall of chest. I’m regretting the yoga pants at the moment, but I’m sure I’ll be happy about them when I clean my plate.
“That can be arranged,” his deep voice rumbles against me, and although I know I should step back, I don’t. I lean my head all the way back to look up at him. He makes no move to put space between us and if anything he plants his feet so he can’t.
“You shouldn’t walk so close to people. I could have tripped.” I tilt my chin up higher. My stepmom does that when she thinks she’s right and it always makes me super mad.
Crap. I should wait until after we order to be rude. If he ditches me now I won’t get my food. He stares down at me and his eyebrows pull together. I’m guessing he’s wondering why I’m on this date in an oversized hoodie and yoga pants, but I don’t care.
“I’ll get your chair.” He pulls out the chair at the table next to us, not moving his body an inch from mine.
“Ah, thanks.” I have to slide past him so I can sit down. “I mean, you should.”
His lips twitch as he pulls out the chair next to mine and sits catty corner to me instead of across.
“Aren't you supposed to sit there?” I point to the other chair.
The hostess’s eyes bounce back and forth between us. They are wide and I can tell she’s waiting for his reaction. I’m guessing she knows him and he comes here a lot with his dates. If he’s a dick, why would she be falling all over him?
“I sit where I like.” He holds his hand out for the menu without taking his eyes off me. She hands it to him quickly and he passes it to me before taking one for himself. I openly roll my eyes at him thinking this is all just a big show.
“Clark is your server tonight. He'll be right with you,” the hostess says, giving Dash a giant smile. One he doesn't see because he’s staring at me.
I try not to fidget in my seat under his gaze. I look down at my menu to get away from his stare, but then he reaches over and opens it for me. Oh my god. I was staring at the front of it, pretending to do what? Read the name of the restaurant over and over again? Wake up, Brooklyn!
“I was trying to see what kind of script that was on the front. It’s pretty.” I flip it back to the front of the menu as I again pretend to look at it.
“Would you like me to ask the owner?” I can tell from his voice he is fighting a laugh. I don’t look to see if I’m right because I know my face is already three shades of red.
“Nope.” I flip it back open and actually read over what they have as I fight my embarrassment. I don’t think he’s buying it, and why do I even care? I’m here for free food and that’s it. Oh, and to be mean as payback for the girls.
“I’m Dash,” he says, and I look up to see he’s holding his hand out.
“Well, I hope so. That’s who my date is with.” I look back down at my menu, not taking his hand.
It’s not that I’m trying to be rude, even though I am, but it’s really because I’m scared to touch him. I’m already acting like a weirdo and turning into one of those guys who sees a pretty girl and they can’t even talk. Actually, that’s kind of adorable when I think about it.
When I peek up at him, I see he’s lowered his hand but now he’s smiling at me. Why is he smiling? Am I not being rude enough? My friends might be right about me not being mean. I’ll have to step it up a notch.
“Have you been on a lot of dates on the app?” He asks when I don’t say anything else.
I shrug. Not as many as him, I’m sure, since he’s gone out with all of my friends. That helps cool some of my attraction, until the next time I look at him and it’s there all over again.
“I hate dating, to be honest.” His tone is light. Is he trying to make small talk?
“You wouldn’t know it,” I mumble. He gives me a confused look but I’m saved by the server bringing me another glass of the same wine I’d had at the bar. I didn’t order another but I’ll take it.
“How are you doing this evening, Mr. Belmont?” the server asks.
“I’m good,” he answers as the server puts down a drink in front of him too. He really must come here a lot. “Eyes on me, Clark.” The server looks away from me and back to Dash.
“Bring out a few appetizers while my girl here looks over the menu.” Did he call me his girl? I shake my head.
“No, I know what I want.” I looked over the menu before
