“A girl is entitled to a healthy imagination,” she teased, patting him on the tummy before she eased away.
Blood rushing south, he puffed in oxygen and reached back to grip the table.
Trace jumped back over and held him tighter than before, bracing her body against his protectively. “Dammit, Cole. Don’t pass out on me.”
“I won’t.” He was pretty sure words came out, the world around him flickering dark as he tried to stay upright, steadying himself against her but gripping the table in case he actually passed out this time.
“Maybe you should sit back down,” she whispered, so close he could feel her breath over his neck.
“I’m fine,” he growled.
“Come on. Let me help you out to the couch.” She gripped him tighter and nudged him to move with her.
When he didn’t budge, she looked up at him, worry coating those deep blues.
“I don’t want to ruin your dress,” he whispered, falling right back into the trap of noticing the low neck on her dress that dipped lower as she steadied him, and then quickly shifting his gaze up and landing on her eyes, darker with the shadow and dark lashes that were absolutely smoking.
“It’s okay,” she said, not releasing him. “It’s just a dress.”
He adjusted his posture, lifted his gaze and realized her date had disappeared. “I’m really fine,” he said, reaching for the crutch and hooking it under his arm. “Really.”
She glared up at him, brow drawn in calculation as she stepped back again.
Still dizzy, only slightly from the anemia, but he wasn’t pale anymore. Instead, his skin was on fire, radiating across his body from the memory of each point of contact with her.
“Okay,” she said, moving back further.
She stayed within reach.
He laughed and shook his head before hobbling awkwardly with the crutch, the movement splicing through his injured shoulder that wasn’t even involved in the action. But at least he didn’t have that damn boot on. “Go. Be gone. Have a nice date.”
4
Take a raincheck
Haleygaveherabreak on the short drive to the restaurant. A very, very short reprieve.
Thanks to the recent renovation—which she had watched progress through several first dates—the restaurant was rather glam. Black walls and burgundy accents and glinting silver fixtures, frames, mirrors. Trace had to shield her eyes from the shininess as they were led to their table.
The moment Trace’s butt hit the chair, Haley moved the leather-bound drink menu out of her way and set her elbows on the table, leaned as far forward as her dress would allow, and stared at Trace like when they were little and were about to share the greatest secrets the town had ever known.
A lot of wine was going to be needed to even get started. Lips pursed tightly together, she ignored Haley and plucked up the drink menu. They both politely and calmly ordered drinks when their server came by. “Think we can walk home if we have too much wine? Two miles? My boots are comfy, but yours…?” she asked Haley.
Haley moved right back into interrogation position as soon as the server disappeared to fill their drink orders. “We can hitch a ride home with Finn if we stay out late enough. Or I’ll bet your dad would come get us. Or… your imaginary friend?”
She snorted a laugh and shook her head. At this point, she wouldn’t be surprised if she’d completely invented an attractive male companion for herself. Dire. Fucking dire. “I wish you’d been around when I started learning how to sneak out at night. I’d get to pretend I was going to your place. They never believed me when I’d claim I was going anywhere other than out with Finn.”
“You know, I think it’s getting less weird,” Haley said, finally sitting up. “I confess, it took me longer than I was willing to acknowledge, to accept that I am now engaged to your ex-boyfriend.”
“I am so glad you said that. As much as I am totally over Finn, I’m still working on being over the idea of him.” Eyes rapidly warming, she fanned her eyes. “Wow, why isn’t the wine here yet?”
“Oh, Trace,” Haley quickly said, reaching across the table and squeezing her hand. “I thought… I—“
Trace squeezed back, releasing as she saw the server heading their way with their drinks. “Nope. Don’t. I liked having a boyfriend who was also a friend. Did Grady ever tell you that he and I went out once?”
“What? No.”
The server slid their glasses onto the table and inched away as he realized they weren’t even close to being ready to order.
