“Everything OK?”
I nod. And then I lie.
“Yup. All good.”
I might have been willing to tell Cassie my secret about Garrett today, but I’m not ready to tell her about my past yet.
One I’m scared is now trying to come back and haunt me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Garrett
I never understood why people found it freeing to get behind the wheel of their car, roll down the windows, and blare a favorite song. As I’m doing it now on my way to pick up Paige, I see the appeal.
Or maybe it’s because I’ve never felt this way in my life.
The practice is thriving with every doctor at Innovative so busy that they are not accepting any new patients. And despite not making the rounds at various charity or social events, the clinic’s funding is looking solid for the first quarter and into summer.
Personally? I’m happy. Lighter. Just being away from Annika has made me feel twenty pounds lighter. Living with Mark and Charlie means I get to spend more time with Cullen and Makenna. It has been firmly established that I’m the top uncle over Charlie’s brother, Dominic, despite my lack of pancake-making skills. He might be a big time senator, but I’m pretty sure I rock a pretend tea party better than he does.
When I was lying in my hospital bed, wondering why I had been given a second chance at life, I didn’t realize how unhappy I was.
Looking back at that version of me, and the one I’m looking at right now, it’s amazing how much things can change in such a short amount of time.
Annika hasn’t given me much grief over the separation. Which is odd. I expected daily texts and calls from her about her “lack of funds.”
This tells me she is already seeing someone else. Good. She can be someone else’s problem.
And then there is Paige. Fuck, that woman is driving me insane. And she doesn’t even know it.
It’s been almost a week since I’ve seen her. A week since I nearly found out what her lips taste like. A week since I chickened out and went for a kiss on the forehead instead.
I’m still trying to decide if that was the best or worst decision I could have made.
We’ve talked a few times, I didn’t want her thinking that I was ignoring her. But since there were no events for us to help with this week, I haven’t seen her.
Which is completely unacceptable to me.
That is why I’m now standing outside her door, a bouquet of flowers in my hand, waiting to pick her up for dinner. I wanted to thank her properly for everything she has done for me. When I said this to Charlie, she joked that it was a date. So then I invited her and Mark. She then told me it was a double date.
It’s not any of those things. It’s just a friend taking another friend to a meal at a four-star restaurant with his brother and sister-in-law.
When she opens the door I remind myself of that, because fuck, every time I see her I can’t get over how beautiful she is.
“Is there an airport nearby, or was that just my heart taking off?”
My bad line earns me a well-deserved eye roll. Like always, it’s the perfect ice breaker. “That’s what you’re going to go with?”
“Is it going to score me a dinner date tonight?”
Not a date, asshole. Not. A. Date.
She takes the flowers from my hand and waves for me to come inside. “Only because I’m very hungry.”
As she puts the flowers in water, I take the time to look around Paige’s home. And that’s what this is. A home. It’s modest. I’d guess a two bedroom. The décor is bright but simple. Pictures of her friends, and I’m guessing students, line the walls. It’s pristinely clean but lived in.
It’s absolutely what I would picture for Paige.
“So, where are we going? I hope I’m dressed OK since you refused to tell me.”
“You look beautiful. It’s perfect. I’m still not telling you.”
She lets out a defeated sigh as she grabs her purse and jacket before we make our way out to my car. “I’m not a fan of surprises. What if I have a food allergy? What if it’s all meat and I’m a vegan? What if it’s in a language I don’t know and I end up ordering frog testicles?”
I almost choke on my laugh as I open her car door. Frog testicles? Where does she get this stuff?
“You aren’t vegan. The restaurant is an Italian steakhouse. And you don’t have any allergies that I know of. And frog testicles are fucking disgusting. Come on, Angel, trust me.”
The side look she gives me goes straight to my dick. She’s trying to be defiant and show a little of that sass that comes out when I push her limits. And fuck if it isn’t making me hard as stone as I’m about to drive to meet my brother and sister-in-law.
“Fine.” She lets out in a huff. “But if I can’t find anything to eat on the menu, it’s your fault.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
Paige
Angel.
The nickname has been stuck in my head ever since he said it to me in the car. I wanted to ask him about it because he’s never called me that before. Well, except when he laid down that cheesy line in the hospital.
Nicknames are so intimate. Even if I’m the furthest thing from an angel.
Between the almost kiss, the flowers he brought, and now the nickname, my mind is going out of control. This probably wouldn’t be happening if I had dated like normal people in their teens and twenties, but I didn’t, so here I am confused as all get out before a maybe double date. And not just with any man, a man I am ridiculously attracted to, who just called me Angel and almost kissed me last week.
I am so in over my head.
“You ready?” Garrett says as I realize we’re parked in front of Marciano’s, an Italian steakhouse that I’ve never heard a bad thing about. I’ve also never eaten here because I have a mortgage to pay and groceries to buy.
“This is where we’re going?”
He doesn’t say anything before coming around and opening my car door for me. “It is. I figured Italian and steak is a can’t-go-wrong choice. Plus, I remember you saying you wanted to try it.”
I said that once, in passing, as we were driving to the beach to do trash pickup. “You remember that?”
He places his hand on the small of my back, leading me into the lobby of the restaurant. “I remember everything you have ever said to me.”
I can’t respond because we’re taken back to our table where Mark and Charlie are waiting for us. Even if I could have, I wouldn’t have known what to say.
Lucky for me, I don’t have time to dwell on his words. Not when Mark and Charlie are dining with us. The wine and conversation are flowing, the laughs are never far away and before I know it, I have eaten every bite of the mind-blowing, four-cheese ravioli that I’d most definitely request for my final meal if I were on death row.
I even had a chance to ask the question that’s been on my mind for months.
“Can I ask why Garrett likes to use horrific pickup lines?”
“He still uses those?” Mark says, slamming his hand down on the table before laughing for a good minute. “Holy shit, brother. I thought you would have abandoned those years ago!”