For Angelo(16)
Noticing the grim look on his face, she asked worriedly, “Are you really sure this is okay?”
Realizing she must have misinterpreted his mood, he told her, “This place is good as any.” At her unconvinced look, he said gently, “I’m no snob, tesoro.” And not giving her time to answer, he pushed the door open for her, murmuring politely, “Shall we?”
“You remind me of Ray,” he heard her mumble as she stepped past him.
“I see. Is he your brother?”
“Oh, no. We’re not blood related.”
His lips compressed. He wanted to ask who the hell Ray was, but pride forbade him to utter a word about it.
“Ray’s my—”
A waitress cut her off, calling out to Lane cheerfully, and Angelo wanted to cheerfully strangle the other woman for her ill timing. Just when he was about to find out who Ray was, he thought broodingly.
“I thought you were flying back home,” the waitress was exclaiming as she led them to the only vacant booth left.
“Yeah, well…” Lane slid inside one side of the booth but stayed at the outer edge so Angelo would have no choice but to sit opposite her.
Angelo raised a brow at the seating arrangement.
Lane pretended not to notice.
A moment later, Angelo took his seat across her, and Lane relaxed.
Gretchen, the waitress, was looking at them with interest.
“Black coffee for me, please,” Angelo supplied.
“One extra large vanilla milkshake and fries for me, Gretch,” she said quickly, and hoping to forestall any awkward questions, she pretended to frown, saying, “I think someone’s calling you—”
“Oh, let someone else take care of it.” Gretchen grinned. “You’re more interesting. I never imagined you’d have a thing for sexy Italians.”
Lane gasped, “Gretch!”
The older woman winked at Angelo. “Who might you be?”
She watched Angelo introduce himself, impressing Gretchen and the other women in the diner, who were all openly eavesdropping on them.
“Are you guys going out?” Gretchen asked.
Lane groaned. “Oh my God, Gretch—”
“That is my objective, yes.”
“Oooooh. Now I know why this sweetie likes you.” She rolled her eyes. “This girl has it bad for men with big words.” She sniffed. “I’ve been telling her it’s better to look for men with big cocks—”
“Greeeeeeeeeetch.” Lane’s hands flew to cover her face in complete mortification.
“But I did tell you that,” the waitress protested.
“I know, but—”
But there was no point talking because Gretchen had turned back to Angelo, saying excitedly, “Tell me the truth. Did she have to lose her clothes to snag you? Be honest!”
“I swear to God, Gretch, if you don’t—”
The waitress laughed. “I’m going, I’m going.”
When the waitress left, Angelo took one look at Lane’s red face and said gently, “It’s okay. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He paused. “But I do wish you had told me you’d be willing to go that far—”
Lane moaned in acute embarrassment and covered her face again. When he laughingly pulled her hands away, she tried to struggle but when it became clear he wasn’t letting go, she said almost pleadingly, “It’s not like what you think, okay? Gretchen just thinks I’m silly for spending my money on books, and when I told her she’s too cynical, thinking sex is the only way to get a guy, we ended up betting that if I ever end up dating—”
“Ah.”
“You believe me, right?”
He released her hands, saying, “Of course.”
She was about to sigh in relief when she saw Angelo’s lips curve in a smirk. “It’s true,” she insisted. “I would never—”
He raised a brow. Would you honestly never come to my bed if that were the only way?
She turned red, and when he laughed, she knew Angelo had his answer.
Gretchen came back then, saving her from having the need to insist on something she was no longer sure of. When the waitress left, she noticed him glancing at her milkshake and she asked, “Is it too weird that I ordered one?”
“Not at all.” Angelo managed to keep his voice bland. “It’s been a long time, but I once a dated a girl who’s…a bit like you.” It was a lie, though. The more time he spent with Lane, the more similarities between them turned up…and he didn’t like it.
Lane was surprised by Angelo’s revelation. “Really?” At his nod, she couldn’t help mumbling, “I bet she’s prettier than me.” She truly believed this, for she could not imagine someone like Angelo Valencia dating anyone imperfect. “Right?” Her voice was glum.