“Hi, Jasmine. I’m heading out to a dinner meeting. I won’t be back until later. Please call me if anything comes up.”
“Of course, Mr. van der Meer.” Her smile is warm and friendly. She’s the youngest of the nurses, and Rosa’s daughter. “Everything will be fine here. Have a nice evening.”
The drive across town takes no time at all. Glancing down at the clock on the dash, I’m pulling into a parking spot at the hotel about fifteen minutes early. Just how I like it. I made a reservation for dinner tonight, wanting to get a table with a perfect view of the entrance, so I can see when Bodhi arrives.
After our last date, I did a little digging on him and found out he lives in Durham. He’s a senior at Duke University. Leaving this hotel on Sunday, I had an overwhelming urge to find out what he’s been up to the last handful of years. Shortly after he and Ryan had a falling out during their junior year of high school, we moved to Charlotte for my work, and that was the last I’d seen or heard of him. Running into him—especially like this—was jarring… but intriguing, too.
My eyes find him walking through the entrance two minutes to seven. Raking my gaze down his body, I can’t help but admire everything about him. From the pair of skintight pink skinny jeans he’s got on, to the black and white tie-dye shirt exposing a good two inches of his midriff, down to the black pair of Vans on his feet. It’s an outfit that, in theory, shouldn’t look good, but on him, it does. He’s so different from who I remember, and he’s absolutely stunning. His black, shaggy hair appears mussed up, like he was running his fingers through it before coming in here, and when his eyes, piercing and ice blue, find mine, the faintest grin tugs on the left side of his mouth. It’s barely noticeable, and it doesn’t reach his eyes, but it’s there. He fiddles with his hands as he makes his way closer to the table, various slender fingers adorned with silver rings. If I had to guess, I’d say it was a nervous habit.
Pulling out the chair across from me, he sits down, his scent wafting around me—beachy and slightly feminine. He keeps his hands in his lap and out of sight as he peers over at me from under his thick, long black lashes, eyes full of uncertainty.
“I’m glad you came,” I state with complete honesty, my voice quiet.
“I considered not.” For how unsure he looks, his words come out even and confident, despite his inability to look into my eyes.
“Why?”
“Because,” he starts, glancing around to most likely make sure no one can hear him before he leans in across the table. “Because you’re the father of my old best friend and I’m a hired date. Us being here together is at least five different levels of fucked up.”
Of course, I understand his hesitancy. Hell, I probably should be more hesitant, too. I don’t know why I’m not. My gut—or maybe my starved heart—is telling me he’s worth pursuing. It makes no sense, but I’m not willing to just ignore that feeling or intuition or whatever the hell it is.
“I don’t see why it matters, Bodhi. We’re both adults, are we not?”
Scoffing, he rolls his eyes. “Yes, we are,” he hisses. “But still… you knew me when I was a teenager. You’re old enough to be my dad.”
“So, none of your other clients are older than you? I find that hard to believe.”
Glowering at me, he parts his lips, like he wants to respond, but our server chooses that moment to come take our drink order. I order us the same thing we got last week, and when he walks away, my gaze snaps back to Bodhi, whose arms are crossed over his chest.
I wonder what it’ll take to get him to loosen up a little, get out of his shell.
“How’re you liking Duke?” I ask him, knowing I’m playing with fire. When his eyes narrow into slits, I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. He looks so damn cute when he’s angry.
“How the fuck do you know that?”
Shrugging, I grin before telling him, “I have my ways.”
Our server comes back, a bottle of unopened wine and two long-stemmed crystal glasses in hand. When he takes our order, Bodhi orders the same thing he got last time, minus the soup, while I get the garlic butter lamb chops.
When it’s just the two of us again, my eyes gravitate back to him, but he’s staring down at his lap—something I’m noticing he does often. “So…?”
Glancing up, he almost looks startled to find my gaze on him. “So, what?”
“Do you like Duke?”
“Yes, stalker, I do.” Grabbing his wineglass, he brings it to his full lips—lips I would give anything to taste. My eyes can’t help but dip down, tracking the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the lace choker around his throat doing nothing but accentuating the movement. My mouth waters, teeth aching with the urge to nip the skin right there and hear him whimper in my ears.
Forcing my eyes back up to his face, I clear my throat, trying—but failing—to get that image out of my head. “Do you live on campus?”
“You don’t already know the answer to that, Sherlock?”
“Oh, he’s feisty tonight,” I quip, not even trying to hide the smirk on my lips anymore.
Bodhi shakes his head, looking to his right, trying to hide the small smirk tugging at his lips. If he thinks I can’t see it, he’s wrong. Putting his mask firmly back in place, he rolls his eyes once more as he finally answers me. “I don’t live on campus.”
“Do you live by yourself?”
“No, I have two roommates. We share a house.”
