I didn’t want Lyla living here. I fucking hated everything about it, actually. Why she had to be so stubborn and not accept Jett’s offer for her to help out at the community center drove me mad. She could have such a better life if she just accepted the help.

Fumbling of locks brought me out of my thoughts, and I tried to remove the crease in my brow that had formed from taking in her dwelling.

Lyla whipped open the door and smiled brightly at me. She was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, brown ankle boots, and a cream tank top that was short in the front and long in the back so her midriff was peeking out. Her breasts were most likely pushed up by her bra because they crested at the neckline of her shirt, making me quite aware of their size. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, exposing her gorgeous neck. My mouth watered just thinking about running my tongue up and down it.

“Mmm, you look good,” she said, grabbing her purse and shutting the door to her apartment. Before she turned and locked her door, she stepped into me, pressed her hand on my chest, and lightly kissed my lips. A waft of feminine perfume hit me hard, causing me to yearn more than I ever wanted.

She turned quickly to lock her doors before I could even consider deepening her kiss. I stuffed my hands in my pockets to keep myself from touching her as I observed the perfect curve of her ass. There were only so many ways I could control myself.

Turning around, she had a big smile on her face that almost cracked the neutral look I was trying to portray. Why did she have to be so damn beautiful?

“Ready?” she asked.

“Where are we going?” I responded, not sure what she had planned.

“What?” she asked in an offended tone. “You didn’t plan a date? You’re supposed to take me out.”

I scratched my head and thought about it for a second. Shit, was I really supposed to plan something? I couldn’t remember the last time I actually went on a date. I had no clue where to even begin. “I’m going to be honest with you, Lyla. I don’t do dates, so I have no clue where to fucking start.”

“Well, this is a lost cause. Have a good night,” she said, disappointment in her voice.

“Wait,” I said, pulling on her arm. “Help me out. Where do I start?”

Why had I just said that? Her turning around on me was my out. Did I really want to go on this date? The realization was too much to even think about, so I blocked those thoughts out of my mind and brought her closer to me. Once again, that ‘gotchya’ smile greeted me, and I knew she’d played me, just like she had in the Haze Room.

“You’re the devil, you know that?”

She laughed and linked her arm into mine. “Take me to dinner first, Kace. Anywhere you want to go.”

“Anywhere?” I asked as I led her down the stairs.

“If you take me to Kitten’s Castle, I will castrate you,” she said with humor in her voice.

“Shit, now you took all the surprise out of it.”

“Kace…,” she warned.

I chuckled, a foreign concept to me. It almost felt good, I almost felt light. For a short period of time, I actually felt like the weight of the world wasn’t sitting on my shoulders.

I led her out onto Bourbon Street, guided her past the already drunk people enjoying the raunchiness of the French Quarter, and walked her down Toulouse Street to one of my favorite restaurants.

“How was your day?” she asked, striking up conversation, something I wasn’t good at, at all.

“Fine,” I replied, not really knowing how to elaborate.

“Okay, want to tell me more?”

“Not really,” I replied, opening the door to The Chartres House that was tucked away in a salmon-colored building. I ushered her in, not letting her respond to my inability to discuss my day like a normal person.

“Will it be just the two of you?” the hostess asked.

“Yes. Can we have the table over there in the corner?” I nodded at my favorite seat. The restaurant was small and had a bar that took up most of the space, not allowing for too many diners at once. There were small cabaret tables with either two or four seats each, and when the weather was nice, the doors that faced the street were open. But the wind was a bitch today, and the doors were closed, blocking out the bustle of the street, which I was grateful for.

“Sure thing. Right this way.” The hostess led us to our seats, and I took the one in the back corner, where I was able to look out over the restaurant. I never liked having my back turned to a room so I couldn’t see what was behind me. The hostess handed us menus. “Enjoy.”

Feeling uncomfortable, since this whole dating scene felt like foreign territory to me, I shifted in my chair and asked, “Have you ever been here before?”

Lyla’s light green eyes looked at me. “They have the best boudin. Good pick, Kace.”

“You like boudin?” I asked, a little shocked. I wouldn’t have picked Lyla for a sausage lover.

“What’s not to like? Meat stuffed in a little roll you have to suck on. It all works for me.”

Shaking my head, I was about to respond when the waitress appeared. “Hello. My name is Ana. I will be serving you. We have a special today on crawfish with two sides if you’re interested. Can I get you something to drink to start off with?”

“Water,” I said briskly.

“I’ll take water as well, thank you.” Once the waitress left, Lyla turned her gaze on me and said, “Can you lighten up just a bit? You nearly barked at that poor waitress.”

“I did not bark,” I defended myself.

“Kace, you could have at least smiled.”

“I don’t really smile.”

“That’s not true. I’ve seen you smile.”

“You caught me in a weak moment when you saw that,” I countered, a grin trying to peek past my strong façade.

“You’re frustrating,” Lyla huffed, putting her menu in front of her and blocking her beautiful face from my view.

This was going just as well as I thought it would. My awkwardness and inability to relax was shining brightly as silence fell between us. I thought about saying something to break the tension that quickly fell upon our table, but I had no clue what to talk about.

There were so many things I wanted to tell her. A part of me wanted to open up to her because I felt like she would understand where I was coming from. A part of me wished she would understand, but I couldn’t take the risk. Right now, she at least wanted to be in my presence. If I told her what kind of a monster I was, would she ever want to see me again?

Did I want to see her again? I didn’t want a relationship—it would be too complicated—but the short walk from her apartment to the restaurant with her arm in mine had been one of the best couple of minutes I’d experienced in a long time. Her body had been soft against mine, and I’d enjoyed how her ponytail brushed against me when she turned to point at something, or the way little whiffs of her perfume fluttered into my nose. She was so incredibly feminine and so incredibly fuckable.

“Here you are,” the waitress said, placing two waters on our table. “Have you decided what you’re having?”

“I have,” Lyla said while glancing at me from over her menu. I motioned for Lyla to go first. “I’ll take the special with red beans and rice.”

“Very good, and for you, sir?”

“I’ll have the same,” I replied. “And can we get an appetizer of the boudin, please?”

“Yes, certainly.”

The waitress wrote down our order and took off.

“Wow,” Lyla said while leaning back in her chair.

“What?”

“You know the word ‘please.’ I’m actually kind of shocked.”

“Don’t be a smartass,” I replied, not liking the snarky look on her face.

She smiled sincerely at me and then grabbed my hand. She entwined her fingers with mine and for some odd reason, I liked it and didn’t pull away. Normally in a situation like this, I would tighten up and bail, but Lyla made it seem so easy. A light touch felt good.