“Once in a while I’ll go out with people from the restaurant after work or on days off, but I’m not on your level, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“You ever hit the club scene?”
“Not really,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t really drink. Once in a great while, but I’m a lightweight. I like food. I might go out to a restaurant or something, but nightclubs aren’t really my scene. I don’t have anyone to go with, and it’s not the kind of thing you do alone.”
“I go alone sometimes.”
“And stay alone?”
“Well, no,” he admits.
“Exactly. I don’t hook up with randoms, so the allure isn’t really there for me.”
His lips curve up faintly and he teases me. “Why not? You’re such a good girl, aren’t you, Virginia?”
“Compared to the girls you’re used to, yes,” I say, unashamed. “I don’t doubt it’s fun to go out with you, but it’s not the kind of thing I do myself, no.”
He nods, his expression seeming to indicate acceptance. Just as I start to wonder if he’ll find that answer lame, he says, “So, let’s go.”
My heart stalls and my eyes widen. “What?”
“I don’t have plans, you don’t have plans. Let’s do it. Let’s go out and have a good time.”
My brain crashes—just completely shuts down. It can’t process words, let alone come up with any. I’m lucky we’re driving a straight stretch of road right now, or I might run us into a pole.
Unconcerned with my silence, Rafe adds, “You can’t wear that, though. We’ll swing by your apartment and you can put on a dress and heels.”
“I—” I clear my throat, shaking my head, trying to find words. “I don’t own any dresses.”
“What?” he asks, like I just admitted to having alien ancestry.
“I work six days a week. I don’t have anywhere to wear dresses, so I don’t have reason to buy one.”
This explanation doesn’t seem to be adequate. I have a hunch Rafe was under the impression that a dress or six must be included in a handy female starter kit we all come readily equipped with, but he eventually accepts this foreign reality. “Huh. Okay. Well, that’s no big deal. We’ll stop and buy you one.”
I can’t find the words to agree, but I can’t seem to say no, either. I’ve never gone out somewhere with Rafe before. I don’t get ahead of myself thinking anything too crazy, though the temptation is real. More than anyone else, I know how casual Rafe is. He has a million casual relationships. He has gone out with hordes of women to clubs, so inviting me to come out with him doesn’t mean anything. He’s bored, that’s all. He’s still taking his break from casual hook-ups, but he just met a son he never intended to have, so he probably needs to blow off some steam, and he wants someone to do it with.
I don’t know if I can be here for him for this, though. As much as I’d love to go out and spend time with him, I need to stay in my box. Do I really want a memory of going out with him on the town? Then every girl he brings through for dinner before they go out clubbing, I’ll know what she’s in for. I’ll know what I’m missing out on. A happy memory will turn into an envious one.
Rafe Morelli’s world is not mine, and I’m apprehensive about the possible ramifications of straddling that line. His world moves much faster than mine, and I’ve always known that even if by some mistake of fate I ended up in his path, it would be a massive risk. Sure, it’s possible I could win his heart if I came in at exactly the right time and we hit it off the way we do in my mind, but the more likely result would be we lose it all. Risk our existing relationship for some cheap thrills, it doesn’t work out, and then what do we have?
I would much rather always have Rafe in my life the way he is now than risk fucking it all up for a long shot at having more.
Getting more deeply involved in his world also complicates my own life, and while I value his place in it highly, I’m not quite prepared to toss out everything I’ve worked for, either. I’ve already paused my life for Rafe, but I’m young; I can afford to do that. Canceling it is another thing altogether.
There’s no reason to, though. I’m worrying more than I need to. He’s not trying to kiss me or fuck me, he just wants me to go to a club with him. It will be a nice memory. I can control myself. I don’t have to get jealous of everyone who comes after me, as long as we keep it strictly platonic.
My brain calls all kinds of bullshit, but my head nods yes. “Sure. Okay. That sounds like fun.”
His easy smile exudes all the bad things—charm, pleasure, interest. God, he should not look at me that way. It does things to my head and my heart. Neither can function properly when his amber eyes glow with pleasure, all because I agreed to spend some time alone with him.
Oh, God, that’s such a bad, bad idea.
I tell myself it’s not. I tell myself it’s fine.
It’s fine that I’m going to a club with Rafe Morelli.
/>