Anyone But Rich (Anyone But..., #1)(49)

“Well, are you hungry?”

Dinner was good, and the fact that we managed to go nearly half an hour without talking about “the breakup that wasn’t” or anything more serious than how we preferred our steak cooked was even better. Talking to her was easy. It was comfortable, like sinking down into an old, well-worn chair. Even though I knew bigger questions were looming, I was able to relax.

The waiter took our dinner plates away, and we ordered dessert. The restaurant was busy, but the dining room had a kind of cozy design that muffled the noise of so many conversations. Our own little booth was in the corner as well, which meant there wasn’t much to look at except Kira.

“You know,” she said. “Despite all the crap I gave you about forcing your way into helping with the play, the kids are devastated that you’re not going to be part of it now.”

I grinned. “You told them I was going to help?”

“It might have slipped out. I regretted it, though, because it was all the girls talked about for the past few weeks. You’d think I told them their dogs had died when I said you weren’t going to be helping after all.”

“So you’re saying you need my help?”

“Need is a strong word. I’m saying your help would be appreciated by the students.”

“I’ve got to be honest. I’m more worried about what their hot teacher would appreciate.”

Kira licked her lips, but her eyes didn’t leave mine. “My guess is that she’d appreciate it if people didn’t try to decide what was best for her without her input.”

My stomach clenched. There it was. We’d done our best to dance around the topic of what I’d done after the party, but I knew we couldn’t avoid it forever. She needed to know, and I needed to decide. Was I still trying to put an end to us, or was it back on?

“That’s fair,” I said slowly. “I’m not going to lie. I’ve thought about the choice I made. A lot. I’ve wondered if it was the right one.”

“You know, not long after we started sort of . . .” She trailed off and made a circular gesture.

“Started sort of what?” I asked.

She sighed. “You know.”

I chuckled. “When you decided to stop hating me and gave me a shot? Or do you mean when you unleashed your sexual desires and nearly mauled me at my place?”

Kira finally laughed again. “That’s both an unflattering and inaccurate description.”

“If my memory serves, you pretty much rammed me into the wall and started grinding on me, so . . .”

“Rich!” she half whispered and half laughed. “Not so loud.”

“So you don’t deny it.”

“No. I do. I’m just more worried about your delusional memory landing in someone’s ear where it can become gossip.” She lowered her voice and leaned forward. “I will give you that it was mutual, but that’s as far as I’ll go.”

“Mutual. Hmm. That’s one way to describe it.”

“You’re getting away from the point. I need to know where we stand. I need to know I’m not just going to get tossed aside without warning if I open myself up to you again.”

“I didn’t toss you aside. I was trying to protect you.”

“From what? Because from where I’m standing, it felt like the only one hurting me was you. I was perfectly happy until you made me feel like an idiot for starting to have feelings for you.”

“Come on. You only started to have feelings for me? I think that ship had sailed and docked around the time your tongue was down my throat.”

She glared at me.

“Okay,” I said. My smile faded. I knew I needed to take this conversation seriously, but I also felt a mounting certainty that I’d been the one to screw up. I’d told myself I was doing the smart thing by breaking it off with Kira, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I’d made the coward’s choice. If I committed to a public relationship with Kira, my parents would disown me. Admittedly, that wouldn’t be a huge loss on the surface, but deep down, I’d always hoped to find some resolution with them. If I hadn’t, I would’ve walked away from them a long time ago. Stella would suffer the consequences and so would my company. Worse, I’d be propelling Kira into the national spotlight, and I wasn’t sure she fully understood the perils of celebrity status.

I was about to speak when the waiter set our dessert down. It was a huge bowl full of ice cream, fruit, and chocolate. He took a minute to explain, as was the custom in expensive restaurants, why each ingredient was better and fancier than we might realize. The fruits were a wild variety that had just been picked in the restaurant’s private garden that morning, the ice cream was handmade from an exclusive type of cow that had been meticulously bred for a century to give the best, sweetest milk for desserts.

We waited patiently while he rattled off everything there was to know about the dessert, but I barely heard any of it.

He left, and neither of us touched our spoons.

“Kira,” I said. “I was an idiot. Being with you isn’t going to be easy. There are people who are going to try to stop us, but I don’t care. And you’re right. I shouldn’t have tried to make the decision for you.”

“I agree,” she said. There was the shadow of a smile on her lips.