He flashes me an arrogant half smile. Yeah, he knows he’s hot. I bet women have been telling him that every day of his adult life. He opens the car door. “After you, Miss Edison.”
I climb inside, holding my dress at the back so I don’t flash him my matching pink panties, and I’m sure I hear him mutter a curse under his breath.
“So where are we going?” I ask as I peer out the window. He sent me a text message earlier, but all he’d tell me about tonight’s date was to dress comfortably. Comfortable to me means yoga pants and Tyler’s old football jersey, but I figured that wasn’t what he meant, so I opted for my favorite dress. Casual enough to wear to a ball game, but fancy enough for dinner.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Can you give me a clue?” I ask, fluttering my eyelashes.
“You’ll love it,” is all he offers.
Nathan wasn’t wrong about me loving our date destination. I stand outside the entrance of Central Park Zoo with a huge smile on my face. “But it’s after seven. I thought the zoo was closed.”
He winks at me. “Not to us.”
He holds out his arm, and I link mine through his as the zookeeper ushers us through the barrier. I guess money really can buy you anything.
“There’s no paparazzi around here though.” I glance at the empty pathways. I’ve been to this zoo plenty of times, but it’s more peaceful and serene than I realized when nobody else is around.
“What about that guy?” Nathan jerks his head toward the snow monkey exhibit, where one of them watches us walk by.
I snort a laugh. “I think he forgot his camera.”
He flashes me a grin. “I thought it would be nice to not have to worry about cameras flashing in our faces tonight.”
“It’s a perfect date. Thank you.”
He looks away and clears his throat. “You’re welcome.”
After we’ve seen all the animals and watched the sea lions being fed up close, Nathan gets each of us an ice cream cone. We sit on a bench to eat, enjoying the last rays of the evening sun.
“So, Miss Edison, if this is a perfect date, tell me about some of your worst ones.”
I press my lips together and search my memories. “Oh!” I turn to face him. “One time a guy took me to meet his mom on our first date. She cooked us dinner and sat at the table while we ate. That was awkward.”
He shakes his head. “Wow. Someone needs to teach that boy some game.”
“Well, not everyone is as blessed with game as you, Mr. James.”
He arches an eyebrow. “You think I have game?”
“Oh, come on,” I huff, rolling my eyes. “We’re alone in the Central Park Zoo, watching the sunset and eating ice cream. If we were on a real date, I’d be riding you like a rodeo bull already. You know you have game.”
He snorts, then coughs and wipes ice cream off his nose. “You’d be what?”
My cheeks burn. Did I really just say that aloud?
“Because I’m pretty sure this is about as real a date as it gets,” he says in that low, husky growl he has that melts my insides like chocolate.
“I wasn’t being literal. It was just a figure of speech,” I insist. But heat is building in my core, and a dull ache thrums between my thighs. The thought of climbing onto his lap and pretending I’m a cowgirl is an entirely pleasant one. Desperate to change the subject, I blurt, “Anyway, tell me about your worst dates.”
“One time a woman proposed to me before we even got to the restaurant,” he says, deadpan.
I slap a hand over my mouth, worried I’ll spit out the bite of ice cream I just took, and laugh.
“Another time, my date insisted on trying to impress me with her pole dancing skills but got a cramp while she was upside down, dropped onto her head, and gave herself a concussion. We spent all night in the ER.”
“What?” The look on his face has me suppressing my snicker. “Was she okay?”
“As far as I know, her pole dancing career is over.” He flashes me a wicked grin. “But yes, she made a full recovery.”
“Okay, I can beat that.” I wiggle on the bench and sit up straighter. “One guy I dated got his dick completely stuck in his fly when he used the restroom during dinner, and I had to take him to the hospital. I’ve never seen so much blood or heard a grown man make those kinds of noises before.”
Nathan winces. “Ouch.”
“I know, right. Then there was the time I was having sex with a guy, and he started singing “Yeah” by Usher when he was about to come.” I thrust my hips forward and back and sing a line of the chorus to give him the full effect.
Nathan doubles over, clutching his stomach, and for a second I’m worried he has food poisoning or something, but his shoulders are shuddering, and I realize he’s laughing.
I laugh too, not only at the memory but at the sight of the Iceman himself so undone. When he sits up, tears are streaming down his face.
“That is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “Jesus, Mel.”
I shrug. “I’ve had some crazy dates.”
“Yeah, you win.”
“Women always have worse date stories than men. I think it’s probably because we have way more invested.”
