Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

PRESENT DAY

SYDNEY

Tom and I have a great time at dinner.

It's every bit as good as my coffee with Travis. Even better, because I didn't have this kind of electric chemistry with Travis. On top of that, Tom is an excellent conversationalist and seems able to talk intelligently about any topic. And I love the way, when the check arrives, he scoops it up without even giving me a chance to try to pay.

"We can split it," I offer.

"You've got to be kidding me. I didn't spend the evening holding doors and chairs for you just to make you give me money for dinner."

Okay, it's a tiny bit old-fashioned, but I find it incredibly charming. Yes, I can afford to split dinner, but it's sweet that he won't let me. And I love how he helps me with my jacket after I stand up, which I button to my throat so that nobody knows that I love New York.

After we leave the restaurant, we linger in front of the entrance. It's gotten nippier, and I hug my jacket around my chest as I stare up at Tom's face.

"Can I take you home?" he asks.

I have found that it is a good general rule for first dates not to let the guy know where I live, especially when he's a random guy I met at a coffee shop (albeit one who came to my rescue previously). Also, I am very worried that if Tom walked me home I wouldn't be able to keep myself from inviting him upstairs, and once he was upstairs, I wouldn't be able to keep from ending up in the bedroom.

Which wouldn't be absolutely terrible, except that I didn't shave my legs. So…

"I'm going to grab a cab, actually," I say. "I'll be fine."

"Okay. Could I have your number then?"

His dark chocolate eyes never leave my face. "Yes, absolutely," I breathe.

I read off the digits of my phone number, and he types it into his phone. He genuinely seems like he's going to call me, but you never know. There have been plenty of times when I have been one hundred percent sure I was going to get a call and didn't.

"I haven't been on a first date in a while," he says, "so you have to remind me of the etiquette. If I call tomorrow, is that completely uncool? Will you think I'm a loser?"

My lips twitch. "Well, I already think you're a loser, so you may as well call me tomorrow."

He seems to like that answer. "Also," he adds, "what do the kids do these days on dates? Is kissing on a first date allowed or…?"

I suck in a breath. The thought of kissing this man is almost more than I can bear. "Yes. It's allowed."

His eyes twinkle. "Good."

And then he does it. He kisses me right in front of the Indian restaurant, and it's like every kiss I've had in my lifetime was just practice, working up to this. This is a kiss. It's the kind of kiss where every part of my body melts simultaneously, and I'm worried that when we stop kissing, I might fall to the floor in a pile of goo. It's that kind of kiss.

Although, kissing Jake was quite nice too. I don't want to keep him from getting credit where it's due.

When Tom pulls away, the dazed look on his face mirrors my own. I'm glad we're not in my apartment, because we would definitely be pulling our clothes off right now.

"I'm calling you tomorrow," he promises.

"You better."

And then he kisses me again. It's just as good as the first time, and all I can think is, How did I get this lucky?

It's only after I get home that I realize Tom never gave me back my bloody shirt.