Gabrielle pushed through the door as if the mention of her had summoned her. She looked fucking beautiful. She’d changed since I’d seen her last, and while I’d thought she’d been sexy in her casual clothes, she was downright devastating dressed up.
Her hair was twisted into an elegant bun at the side of her head, and her delectable body was wrapped in a cocktail dress that matched the color of her navy eyes almost exactly.
My cock twitched in appreciation.
“You eat in private rooms?” She barely managed to veil her condescension.
“No, but the teammate who canceled knows the owner. She thought that he might enjoy it.”
“Okay.” She smiled. It was an easy grin that brightened her eyes in a way that I hadn’t seen in anyone for the longest time. “So, what’s good here? I’m starving.”
Wait, she was actually going to eat in front of me?
Most of my dates ordered food only to take one or two bites and push their food around the plates. Gabrielle, on the other hand, studied the menu like she was so hungry that she actually considered eating it and not only the food it advertised. It fascinated me.
“Are you ready to order?” A server appeared at the table, tapping some sort of electronic pad.
“I am,” Gabrielle confirmed. “How about you?”
I cleared my throat. “Sure, what are you having?”
“The fileto al tegamino for me, please.” She smiled as she handed the menu to the waiter.
She had ordered my favorite dish. I tried not to look incredulous as I repeated her order. “Steak medium rare for me.”
“Of course, Mr. Skye.” She gave a slight bow and left us alone.
The sudden silence in the room was deafening.
Gabrielle studied me with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. Then she smirked. “Not creative enough to come up with your own order?”
She was teasing me. It took me a second to recognize it. It had been years since a girl just had innocent banter with me.
Women always wanted something from me, mostly ‘balls deep Skye.’ Gabrielle didn’t even seem to be thinking about it. “I’m plenty creative,” I said. “It just so happens that I love that steak, and they don’t have it at a lot of places.”
“Tell me about it.” She became animated as she outlined the struggle I was all too familiar with. “I mean, is it that difficult to chuck some garlic and white wine and herbs into a pot and drizzle it over a piece of meat. I don’t know why most places just serve the usual crap, and so few restaurants bother with that kind of perfection.”
“I feel your pain.” I curled a hand into a fist and tapped at my heart. “I order it whenever I have the chance. I just hope this chef doesn’t fuck it up. I had one a couple of weeks ago, and it came without garlic. Can you believe that?”
Gabrielle’s jaw dropped in genuine indignation. It was adorable. “Sacrilege! I hope you mentioned that they should change the menu to read steak with white wine and herbs. I mean, come on.”
“I might have made a bit more of a scene than that. I am a spoiled football player, after all.” I teased her. I sensed she had an ax to grind with people in my profession, especially after that snark about the blowjob.
She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t completely hide the smile that formed on her full lips. “Of course you are. Tell me, though. Is there more to you than just that?”
The question surprised me more than I let on. I took a sip of wine as I tried to formulate an answer. I wasn’t used to women being quite this direct. Not when it came me, anyway. Propositioning me, sure. Getting to know me, no way.
“I’d like to think so, though I’m not exactly sure what you mean by ‘just that.’” It was Gabrielle’s turn to be surprised, though she didn’t manage to hide it quite as well as I did.
“I honestly did not expect you to answer like that,” she confessed. “I was actually kind of sure you were going to make some perverted comment about how much more of you there was and if I’d like to see it.”
Again with the directness. I was kind of digging it. I felt sorry for whatever poor schmuck had tried those kind of lines with her. “Seriously?” I asked. “Which players have you been hanging out with? Please tell me so that I can rub their lack of game in their faces.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I, uh, haven’t actually hung out with any of you myself, but I’ve heard the stories.”
“Wait, so you have this whole condescension thing going towards anyone who plays football based on stories you’ve heard?” I cocked a brow as I teased her. “I mean, fine. Some of the guys use lines like that, but it’s not like only football players do it. Or only men.”
I neglected to mention that I’d used those kinds of lines myself, or that they actually worked most of the time. I had no doubt it wouldn’t work on a girl like her, but not all women were like her. I hadn’t actually met one like her before, not that I could remember. And I have a great memory.