Chapter 10.

The restaurant Dalton had mentioned was this new place called La Villa Peche. It was a smaller spot, fitting for a college city like ours, but I'd heard that it served exquisite food priced higher than the hipsters and students could reasonably afford.

Although we didn't discuss it, I still cla.s.sed myself up for the occasion. With Natalie's help, I chose a slimming black ensemble, even doing my hair and makeup for over an hour.

"You look marrrrvelous," she cooed in that silly regal accent again.

"I don't think I've ever seen you glam up," Jared mentioned when I stepped out into the open den. "You look, like, really good."

The surprised look on his ordinarily dull face told me he was being sincere. As if I needed any secondary gratification, Natalie quickly tugged at the back of his hair.

"Now, now, remember that I'm literally right here," she chuckled in faux jealousy. "But yeah, my girl cleans up well." She looked up at me with a smirk. "She should do it way more often. You know you can make yourself freaking amazing without going to dinner with some older British army dude."

"I never really have a reason to," I shrugged. "It's time consuming. The only time I ever really put makeup on is for work and, well, I know I'm just going to sweat half of that, so I barely bother."

Natalie jokingly rolled her eyes. "Hopeless. Hopeless, girl." She turned to her boyfriend, her hand on her hip. "Do you see what I've gotta put up with here?"

Jared was blatantly checking me out again, and she sighed dramatically. "Alright, buddy. No b.l.o.w.j.o.bs tonight."

"Wait, what?" His eyes finally snapped back off of me. "I was just admiring her! Platonically! You can't do that! Can you?"

My best friend and I shared a knowing look.

"Keep that att.i.tude up, and this," she motioned up and down her curves, "is all going on lockdown. We are talking 'joining a nunnery' levels of s.e.xual deprivation. I'll see to it that my downstairs is drier than a cinderblock if you keep digging this hole of yours. A desert will be wetter than I am tonight..."

"But you're insatiable," I teased her. "How the f.u.c.k are you planning on pulling that one off when you can barely keep your hands off of him?"

Natalie laughed with mock glee. "Oh, you s.p.u.n.ky little b.i.t.c.h, don't you dare undermine me in front of my boyfriend! He doesn't have to know that!"

Jared looked confused.

"Wait. Does this mean we're having s.e.x?"

Natalie and I shared a look again.

"And you say I'm the hopeless one," I replied, shaking my head as I grabbed my keys.

As I closed the door behind myself, I heard her shout after me: "THAT'S IT, CLARA, I'M f.u.c.kING HIM SIDEWAYS IN YOUR BED. BOOM."

That's why I was still grinning like an idiot as I sat down in the outside waiting area in front of the restaurant, even if there was a significant line in the lobby and an hour-long wait.

Dalton arrived on his motorcycle not more than a couple of minutes later, kicking down the stand and stepping free from his throttling ride. As he spotted me, he crossed the parking lot dressed in an ensemble of casual clothes, complemented by dress shoes and a sleek blazer that surprisingly worked with his outfit.

"You look... absolutely stunning," he murmured, checking me out before glancing down at his own clothes. "Maybe I should have consulted you before I threw this on..."

"Don't worry about it," I replied warmly, standing up from my seat. "You look really good too, all things considered. Now, let's grab ourselves a table. I put us down, but it's... going to be a while."

"Oh, don't you worry about that," he smirked. "I called hours ago and set a reservation. We should have something ready in under five minutes."

I admit it; I was just a little impressed.

We sat down together at an intimate table, and our waitress was over shortly to introduce herself and take our drink orders. I didn't miss that she was having a hard time taking her eyes off of Dalton especially as soon as he opened his mouth and let that rich accent pour out.

I wasn't all that jealous. It was just a nice little reminder that, despite the complications of our lives, I was seated at dinner with one of the hottest guys around.

I ordered the blackened tilapia with steamed garlic vegetables, and Dalton requested the fish and chips with tentative antic.i.p.ation. While we waited on the food, we made small talk, asking about homework a.s.signments and expressing surprise at our psychology professor's commitment to immediately presenting challenging a.s.signments.

Despite how busy the place was, the ticket times were on point. We were just wrapping up our salads a house salad for myself, and a Caesar salad for him when the foodrunner stepped over, whipped open a tray rack, and began dispensing plates. I spotted other dishes on the tray; after ensuring that we were fine for the moment, he whisked them away, several tables down. I glanced over and spotted someone I hadn't expected: Jeremy.

We made eye contact briefly, and I instantly turned away. I'd almost completely forgotten about him by now, with Dalton's presence in my life. What the f.u.c.k is my ex-boyfriend doing here? I cursed my vicious drop in luck.

Dalton seemed to notice that I was bothered, and his eyes slid over my shoulder. After a second, my heart collapsed in my chest as I realized why.

"Clara? Oh, I thought that was you!"

Jeremy was standing behind me. I stole a horrified glance up at him. He was still overly tanned, built broadly with a surfer's body and a pair of gla.s.ses that previously made him look dignified and intelligent... but now only made him look like a creeper.

"Hullo," Dalton smirked confidently. "You a friend of hers?"

Jeremy clasped his hand onto my shoulder, and I flinched. He laughed haughtily at my reaction before withdrawing his touch.

"Yes, this is my ex-girlfriend. I'm Jeremy, by the way. Sorry to interrupt, I just thought I'd swing by and catch up for a moment..."

"I'm afraid we're kind of busy at the moment," Dalton raised an eyebrow. "I'll have to insist that this happen at another time."

I made the mistake of turning back to Jeremy. His eyes burned down into mine, peering deep into me with that razor-sharp perception that he'd always had.

I always hated when he did that.

It made me feel like I couldn't keep any secrets from him... because he always saw right through me, straight down into my core.

"Yes, yes, sorry to bother you on your, uh, date," Jeremy smiled, although nothing in his eyes was grinning. "I just wanted to swing by and tell you that I'm glad you've moved on. You deserve to be happy. Why, after that nasty business before, I was afraid you'd never date again... but, that's not my place."

He turned to Dalton with a smug smile and shrugged. "Anyway, enjoy your meal. I'll see you around, Clara."

"No, you won't," I gritted my teeth.

"I think I will," he promised quietly before turning on his heel and sauntering back to his table. I glanced over my shoulder at him, noticing that he never looked back.

I sensed Dalton stiffen up behind me.

"Okay... who the f.u.c.k was that?"

With an exasperated sigh, I turned back to him. "That's my, uh, ex-boyfriend," I replied. "We dated for just under two years. He's not exactly a high point in my life."

"How long ago did you two break up?"

"I'm not talking about this right now," I told him, trying to keep the edge out of my voice.

Dalton silenced himself, staring at me with a mixture of surprise and irritation. I could already sense the night slipping away from me, and it was all thanks to that absolute a.s.shole.

Why the f.u.c.k did he have to be here?

"You've lost your appet.i.te," Dalton observed, watching how I wasn't touching my food. "It's because of him, isn't it?"

"I said I'm not talking about it," I replied angrily. "But yeah. I'm not hungry anymore. Can we just go? I don't want to be here."

Dalton looked hurt, and I realized that it wasn't Jeremy who was f.u.c.king up the night... it was me.

"Wait, no, I didn't mean"

Dalton was already getting the attention of our server, who had chosen that moment to pa.s.s by the table. "The check, if you'd please."

"Oh, of course," she replied, glancing at our plates. "Was everything alright? Do you two need boxes?"

"Everything's fine, we've just had a change of plans. And yes, boxes would be grand."

"Very well then," the waitress nodded, subtly checking him out again before scampering off towards the nearest terminal.

"We can stay here," I tried to backtrack. "I just... it was a knee-jerk reaction. Tonight doesn't have to end like this. I'm sorry that I overreacted, it's just that that guy"

"Don't worry about it," he replied dispa.s.sionately. "Anyway, the night's not over. So what if dinner didn't work out? We've still got the rest of the evening."

"What's... the rest of the evening?"

Dalton chuckled. "You'll see."

He paid the waitress as I boxed up our food. After we were done, he pulled me close and whispered into my ear: "Follow me."

I did as I was told as he led me outside. Despite my best intentions, as we crossed towards the door, I couldn't help but glance towards the b.a.s.t.a.r.d who'd thrown a kink into my entire evening.

Jeremy was watching me over a gla.s.s of wine, sipping quietly with a slight, mischievous smile on his face. There were a couple of other people with him friends of his, who were all following me with their snarky, insidious gazes.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried my hardest to ignore the looming pit in my stomach.

"Alright, we're not going too far from here" Dalton indicated once we'd stepped outside. "Like I said, just follow me. If a light cycle separates us, I'll just pull over. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough," I confirmed.

"Good," he smirked. "Right this way..."

I climbed into my faithful old car as he mounted his motorcycle. Twisting the key in the ignition... nothing happened.

No. Not now. Don't you dare do this now.

I gave it a few more twists. Silently, I prayed to whatever ent.i.ties were listening, and vehemently cursed the car with each breath.

"Is everything alright?"

I looked up, and saw that Dalton was wandering back over. No, don't embarra.s.s me NOW, I rapidly thought to myself.

"Yeah, everything's good! Car's just giving me a little bit of trouble. I shouldn't be any more than a few more seconds..."

He didn't look convinced as he paused outside my door. Steeling myself, I put my energies into one final twist of the keys. Come on, you piece of s.h.i.t car! Don't fail me now! Surprisingly, it kicked into gear just in time for me to spot Jeremy stepping outside to smoke a cigarette, his eyes somehow finding me with a glance.

G.o.ddammit all to h.e.l.l, I thought to myself.

"You're good?" Dalton asked.

"I am. Let's get out of here."

He shook his head with amus.e.m.e.nt and wandered back over to his motorcycle. A few moments later, he was revving the engine, I pulled out of park, and we were on the road.

Of course, Jeremy appeared to watch me drive off, following Dalton's bike.

Dalton's mystery locale took us down the major roads, but I couldn't particularly tell where we were going. For a moment, I thought he was driving us towards the nearby mall but he made a crucial last turn before the road pointed us straight to the parking lot. Instead, it wrapped through a neighborhood nearby, redirecting us towards a nearby, major shopping avenue.

I was starting to get amused with this.

After all, I had no idea what he had in mind.

A few moments later, he made a turn down a small road. I followed him, realizing that it extended back behind all the stores and the local cinema, taking us towards the new, lavish hotel that had been built back there.

Oh, this is going to be interesting, I smirked.

We parked in the ma.s.sive parking garage, and he led me towards the elevator. We barely spoke a word to each other until the lift was moving downward towards the lobby.

"...A hotel," I observed.

"What, is that a problem?" He raised an eyebrow. "Not a fan of hotels?"

"It's a bit... forced, isn't it?"

"Just wait," Dalton chuckled. "I don't think you'll have a problem with the arrangements I have in mind, even if they were a bit last minute..."

I bit my tongue, sincerely interested to see where he was going with all of this.

We stepped off at the lobby, wandering over the front service desk. A young, cheery clerk with fluffy ginger hair and cute makeup greeted us.

"Checking in?"

"Yes. The reservation's under Dalton Carlyle," he casually remarked to her, as if there was some special weight to this that I just didn't understand.