A doubtful expression crossed her face. “You’d really leave me alone if, at the end of the night, I tell you I’m not feeling whatever love connection you’ve got brewing in your brain?”
Using a single finger, I made a cross over my heart. “I swear it. I only want you to be happy, Gemma.”
She cleared her throat. “Yeah, well, not sure that’s in the cards, but it’s a nice thought.”
What the hell had happened to this woman that she didn’t feel worthy of happiness?
Reaching into my back pocket, I produced my phone. “Give me your number.”
Gemma huffed out a wry laugh. “I didn’t say yes yet, did I?”
I flashed her a cocky grin. “Well, then, I guess this is my new favorite hangout until you do.”
“Ugh, fine. Give me the damn thing. One date. That’s it. And then you lose my number.” Her fingers brushed mine as she accepted my cell, tapping on the screen to input her information.
“It’s a deal, Kitten.”
I finished my drink before leaving her to the rest of her shift.
This was a first step toward our future together. And I’d be damned if I wasted this opportunity.
Chapter 8
Gemma
I didn’t know whatI was thinking when I agreed to this one date with Sasha.
As I got dressed, it sank in that I was only encouraging his delusions. In his mind, we were a couple, so going out together would only validate that idea.
I just couldn’t say no when he finally asked me out, even though I knew better.
After a lifetime of being mistreated by men, something came alive inside me when our hands touched. A physical connection I could ignore, but the way he grew concerned about my well-being stirred a longing in my heart, a desperation to be loved and cared for.
He might have initially come off as batshit crazy, but during the nights he’d spent cozied up to the bar while I worked, I realized he was harmless. As he’d described, he was practically a puppy. In my whole life, I’d never seen someone smile so much. I mean, what was the deal with that?
Life wasn’t sunshine and rainbows. I knew that better than anyone. It was messy and, in my case, painful.
Or maybe that’s just how it worked in the fucked-up world I’d been raised in. Happy endings didn’t exist there, and most men knew they weren’t going to die of old age.
I didn’t know how the rest of the world lived. Perhaps that’s what tonight was about. Research into what “normal” looked like—to see if I liked it and wanted to give it a real try.
Truthfully, I wasn’t sure I had it in me. The damage done in my early years went too deep.
Sasha texted that he was only five minutes away, so I painted my lips a cherry red, pursing them together in the mirror before dropping onto my bed to slip on my heels. Fall was in full swing, and I tried to put it out of my mind that the only date-appropriate dress I had was the long-sleeved one I’d worn to my cousin’s wife’s funeral.
Ultimately, this dress was symbolic of my freedom. I’d last worn it the day I realized that I had to get out of Chicago, away from my family, before I became the next Bellini woman being lowered into the ground.
Death and destruction were all I’d ever known, and the man whose knock just sounded on my front door was the polar opposite. He was happiness and light and joy, and I was curious if being near him meant that some of that might rub off onto me.
Here goes nothing.
Carefully stepping down the stairs, I turned the doorknob, and my breath caught in my throat.
There stood Sasha, dressed in a navy blue suit paired with a white shirt left unbuttoned at the collar. His golden hair was pulled away from his face, bringing attention to his sharp jawline. Even though I wore heels, he towered over me, and for some reason, that gave me a small thrill. I’d never beenconsidered “small,” but Sasha made me feel tiny. I kind of liked it.
That dazzling white smile that was ever-present on his handsome face widened when he noticed I was checking him out. Amused, he asked, “Like what you see?”
My eye roll was automatic. “Shut up.” Stepping backward, trying to escape the chill of this late-November evening, I asked, “You want to come in for a minute?”
