More silence as we drive to the next restaurant becomes deafening and irritating. While I’m a talker by nature, silence doesn't bother me but this much silence makes me fidget.
My mouth drops when we stop. Zane slides out then offers me his hand to help me out. “From one overpriced place to another,” I mutter as I move to step around him.
He surprises me when he grips my wrist jerking me back to him. I land against his hard body with an oomph that sounds as attractive as you think. “I meant what I said, Tori. You look fucking gorgeous, and I’m taking you somewhere to show that off.”
I blush. I don’t fucking blush, but dammit this man makes me blush. Repeatedly.
“And I really like the steak here,” he smirks as he runs the back of his hand up my arms.
You’d think tattoos would hide goosebumps, but they don’t. Nope. Not one little bit. If anything, they make them more prominent, and it irritates me that he can see the evidence of that little touch on my skin so easily.
Without giving myself away, I clear the Zane induced fog from my head as I step out of his arms. Distance is always key with him. He puts his hands in his pockets and looks to the sky with an exasperated sigh but still grinning. I like to imagine he’s praying for patience, but something tells me Zane is enjoying this. Maybe a little too much. He’s used to women throwing themselves at him, but I think he likes the chase.
Little does he know that I’m not easily caught and when I’m cornered, I fight.
“Mr. Valen,” the maître d’ this restaurant welcomes when we walk in the foyer of the place, “we have your table waiting, sir.”
This guy doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the girl with all the tattoos. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. He bats an eyelash, but not in disdain. He is checking me out without being too obvious.
“His eyes bugged out of his head when he saw you,” Zane whispers in my ear. It’s a fight to control the shudder that wants to come out of me.
“I’m not trying to sound vain or conceited, but I’m used to guys’ reactions to me,” I say casually like it’s no big deal. It really isn’t either. I turn heads. Long, straight nearly white-blond hair, brown eyes, and tan attracts attention. My body isn’t bad either. It’s an athlete’s body. Not super curvy, but tight and tone in all the right places.
“It doesn’t sound conceited at all. You’re just self-aware. I get it.”
Of course, he does. I am constantly surrounded by hot as hell men since I’m always around Maddox and Ryder. Angel and Jake before him as well. My brother is attractive too, but ew.
But Zane Valen is another level entirely. I’ve never in my life seen another man look like him. In a lot of ways, aesthetically, we fit perfectly. Both blond, tall, with dark eyes, and toned bodies. I’ve never seen Zane’s body in real life. At least, not without the clothes. Just in pictures. But holy hell how is it possible to have so many muscles? And not the type where his arms are the size of his head, but lean tight muscles meant to keep him fast.
I take in the ambiance of the place. It’s beautiful and elaborate, but in an elegant sort of way. A lot like the New Year’s Eve party. The one where things kind of went sideways for Zane and me.
Beautiful white linen tablecloths cover each table with beautiful centerpieces of roses sitting in the middle surrounding a single long stem candle. Dangerous, but beautiful looking crystals hang from the ceiling over the bar where the bartenders are dressed in tuxedos and make me think of the old movies I loved to watch as a kid. That I still watch on occasion.
We are led to a table with a breathtaking view overlooking the city. A few people glance Zane’s way, clearly recognizing who he is, but not many people seem to care. A place like this probably has its fair share of celebrities of every variety.
It suddenly occurs to me why they frequent places like this. It’s not because they’re trying to flash wealth or play a part. It’s because in places like this they can be inconspicuous. They’re just another person with money or fame surrounded by others who are the same. Others who see so many people with much more fame than Zane, that he probably doesn’t even register in their minds.
At least, I can see that’s why Zane likes this place. While he may like the attention he gets, he still values his privacy. Who wants to eat their meal while staving off fans?
We take our seats and within seconds a waiter appears. “I am James, your server this evening. Might I interest you in a cocktail or appetizer while you review our menu?”
Zane gesture to me for whatever I want. “Just a glass of water please.”
“IPA,” Zane says. “No appetizers. Just the dinner menu.”
“Would you like a wine list, sir?”
“Yes,” he says while I sit there shaking my head remembering him buying an entire bottle just for me last time, he took me to dinner.
He hands us the menu then turns to give us time to make our decision.
“You are not buying another bottle of wine just for me,” I tell him with a little hiss to my tone.
“I never said I was,” he says while looking over the menus. “Know what you want to order?”
I scowl, not liking his casually ambivalent tone. I have a feeling another expensive bottle of wine is in the works but turn back to the menu.
“Have we made a decision?” the waiter says startling me.
