part0173

Maybe I went home with him last night. Maybe we're just refueling in the midst of a twenty-four-hour fuck fest, Dr. Miller.

For crying out loud! Why is he texting me? He's on a date! I'm on a date! We are not on the same date! I hit the lock button on my phone and place it face down on the table.

At the next table, Luke's phone rings. He rises from the table and I hear him tell the caller, "This is Dr. Miller," as he walks toward the front of the restaurant. The redhead doesn't seem fazed in the least.

"I'm going to run to the bathroom before the food gets here, babe." Mike walks back towards the hostess stand and disappears from view a moment before Brandee is back with a fresh glass of wine and our meals.

"Oh, thank you," I frown at the wine. "I didn't order another glass though."

"Your boyfriend did." Brandee smiles warmly at me. She's obviously smitten with Mike, but then, most women are.

I look at the wine and shrug. Oh, well, what the hell. I take a gulp and stare at my food. It would be rude to start without him.

I use the time to check out the redhead again. Their table has been cleared and she's patiently scrolling through her phone waiting for Luke to return.

I take another sip. Mike switched to soda when we sat down. He's so considerate, knowing he's driving and stopping at one drink. He comes across like a bit of a player on campus, but he's a good guy.

Luke's back. He doesn't sit down, just stops at the table, leaning down to say something to his date before straightening and pulling cash from his wallet to toss on the table.

He pulls her chair back and places a hand on her back, guiding her to the front, not even glancing at me as they walk out. What the ever-loving fuck?

He stares at me all night, texts me while on a date with another woman, then walks out of here without a backward glance? Sophie, get a grip. You're about to walk out of here with Mike, who cares what Dr. Miller does or doesn’t do? What is his deal though? I don't know what to make of him, other than he's a hot doctor who sends a lot of mixed messages.

I take another gulp of wine and tuck my hair behind my ear. I cross and uncross my legs. I'm so aware of my bare pussy. I feel as though half the blood in my body is pulsing right there. I'm achy. I clench, testing the muscles. My whole body feels warm and relaxed. Let's get this show on the road, Mike. I shift in my seat again, enjoying the pressure between my thighs as I tighten my crossed legs.

I feel someone move into my personal space and I turn my head, expecting to see Mike leaning in to sneak a kiss. The smile falls off my face as I take in Luke leaning over me.

"Your date had to leave. Get up. I'm driving you home."

My heart starts to pound and my mind races. What is happening? Where did Mike go? Why is Luke involved? Is Mike okay? Did I just get stood up in the middle of a date?

I blink at Luke. I turn back to the table set before me. Our untouched meals sit, no longer steaming, still waiting to be eaten. My eyes rest on my half-finished wine glass. No use wasting that, at least. I pick up the glass and knock it back in one long swallow. Keeping it classy in front of Luke has become my specialty.

He pulls out his wallet and leaves a stack of bills on the table before pulling my chair back. I look up and catch a surprised look on the waitress' face. My cheeks redden in embarrassment. I walked in with one man and I'm walking out with another, who just paid the bill for a meal I never even got to eat. I can't comprehend what’s happening right now but I'm more than happy to get out of here and figure it out without an audience.

I slide my phone off the table as I stand, sneaking a glance around. The waitress has busied herself with a table. No one is looking at me, actually. Except a chubby blonde baby in the corner. She's definitely staring at me. Nosy baby.

Luke already has my jacket in his hands. I slide my purse over a shoulder and start walking towards the front. My cell is still clutched in my hand. I flick it alive as I walk and glance at the screen. Maybe Mike tried to reach me with some kind of explanation, but the screen is blank. No new alerts. Do I have a signal? Yes. I open the last text conversation between Mike and I. Maybe there's a text I missed? No. I'm in the lobby, was the last message he sent me, ninety minutes ago.

I weave my way through the restaurant to the door, knowing Luke is right behind me. There's a mass of people standing around the front waiting on tables. I glance around, still expecting to see Mike, asking me why I'm leaving.

Maybe he's outside smoking. He doesn't smoke. But it would still make more sense than him just disappearing. I'm racking my brain trying to make sense of this. We were having a good time. The evening was going well. I was a sure thing, dammit! He knew I was going home with him.

I know he didn't chicken out. He didn't turn gay and run out of here. It's not like that could possibly happen to me twice.

We arrive at the restaurant door and Luke reaches around me to open it. His shirt sleeves are pushed up to the elbow and I notice the muscles in his forearm as he pulls the door back, ushering me through. My mind flashes to an hour ago when Mike held the same door open for me. When did this night go so terribly wrong?

The cool air outside awakens me from my shocked stupor. The sidewalk is busy. I take a step out of the way, stopping in front of the window display of the closed shop next door. I shiver and start to wrap my arms around myself to ward off the evening chill. Luke stops directly in front of me and holds up the right sleeve of my jacket, silently instructing me to push my arm through before repeating the gesture with my left.

He pulls the jacket over my shoulders and tugs it closed. The action makes me feel small, like a child. He is standing so close I can make out the tiny fibers of his gray sweater and the scent of his aftershave. He cups my jaw and tilts my head back to meet his gaze.