“It’s the overbearin’ protector in me,” I said with a small shrug. “It makes me a pain in the arse.”
“Really?” Damien grinned. “I had no idea.”
“Smartarse.”
He chuckled. “It’s been five days since her surgery, and when we saw her yesterday, you can’t say she didn’t look great because she did.”
“She did,” I agreed, “but she wouldn’t tell me if she was feelin’ shitty just to keep me from worryin’.”
“Alannah, your mom knows you worry either way, so she wouldn’t lie to you, babe.”
“I guess.”
I ate some more of my food then and glanced around the restaurant.
“I like it ’ere,” I said happily. “I’ve passed by it a million times but never came inside to eat.”
“I plan on bringing you here and many other places more often, so get used to it.”
I turned my attention back to Damien.
“I’d be just as happy eatin’ at home with you.”
“Speaking of your apartment, I have to get all my laundry together to bring back to Ryder and Branna’s to get it—”
“I already washed and dried it all.”
Damien blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I did all the washin’ this mornin’.” I shrugged. “It was really windy out today, so I hung your clothes out to dry on the line I have on the balcony in me bedroom. Windy weather is great dryin’ weather. Me ma always says that.”
Damien continued to stare at me, and I blushed under his gaze.
“Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?”
“You did my laundry?”
“Yeah, so?” I raised a brow. “I did mine, too. They were dirty so I washed them … it’s not a big deal.”
When Damien smiled, I couldn’t understand why.
“You’re bein’ really weird about me doin’ your washin’.”
He chuckled. “It just feels a little odd. Branna usually does it for me.”
“Branna is like your mammy,” I teased. “I’m your girlfriend, so I’ve inherited the task from ’er. You’re slowly becomin’ me man-child.”
Damien playfully rolled his eyes.
“I do it myself, too. I’m not lazy. Branna just does it before I have a chance.”
“She’s like me.” I shrugged. “We don’t let it build up. Line dryin’ is a huge thing ’ere, in case you haven’t noticed. When it’s a nice, windy day, all the washin’ is done.”
“Ryder used to dry our clothes in the tumble dryer until Branna went crazy at him about how much that would cost on the bills.”
“Trust me,” I said. “I have no idea people didn’t dry their clothes on a washin’ line out their back until a few years ago when Nico said you’d put soppin’ wet clothes into a dryer and just press start. That blew me mind. I put me clothes in the dryer for, like, ten minutes to soften them, and that’s it.”
Damien was watching with that weird look again.
“What?”
“We’re on our first date, and we’re talking about laundry, and the best method of drying said laundry.”
“The best method is line dryin’,” I pressed. “Don’t argue with me on this, buddy.”
Damien laughed good heartedly, and it drew attention from the group of women who were sitting a few tables over. I watched as they stared at my boyfriend and, not so discreetly, giggled and spoke to one another. Some of them looked at me. I watched as they looked me up and down and laughed, and I knew they had decided I wasn’t good enough to be at dinner with Damien. I narrowed my eyes, knowing exactly what was going through their minds when they turned their gazes back to him, because it went through mine whenever I looked at Damien.
“They want to have sex with you.”
Damien choked on the bite of food in his mouth.
“Who?” he rasped, before taking a huge gulp of his water. “What are you talking about, Alannah?”
I rolled my eyes.
“That group of women is starin’ at you, and I can tell what they’re thinkin’ based on how they’re eye fuckin’ you.”
“Eye fucking me?” Damien’s jaw dropped. “I’ve never heard you say that before.”
I looked down at my plate of food and messed around with my steak.
“Can we go?”
“No.”
I looked up at my boyfriend and frowned.
“No,” he repeated. “Tell me why you want to leave.”
I shook my head.
“Then we’re staying right here.”
I scowled. “I can leave if I want to.”
“You can,” Damien agreed, “but you won’t, because it’s our first date.”
I scowled harder at him, and he only raised a brow in question and waited.
“They were givin’ me dirty looks,” I grumbled, looking out of the window and to the traffic on the road outside. “It’s female intuition. I know they know I’m not good enough to sit ’ere with you. Women like them are.”
“Women like them?” Damien repeated.
“Yeah,” I sighed. “Skinny women with a nice bum, a nice pair of boobs, and a gorgeous face. Ye’know, perfect.”
“Is that your vision of what perfect is?”
I didn’t answer.
“Alannah.”
“I don’t know.” I grunted. “When I think of perfect, I think of the girls.”