12
1273 Words
Nia’s Pov
Before I could even open my mouth, Rowan answered smoothly, “We’ll have the house special.”
The waiter nodded politely and left.
I turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Did you just order a drink without even letting me decide?”
He leaned back in his chair, that infuriating grin spreading again. “I know what you’re thinking but I really want you to try this one. Trust me.”
“Trust you?” I echoed sceptically. “That’s a big ask.”
Rowan chuckled. “You’ll survive it, princess. It’s not poison. Just… strong.”
I gave him a long, suspicious look. “Define strong.”
“Let’s just say,” he said, resting his elbow casually on the table, “you’ll either thank me after one sip or hate me after two.”
I groaned softly, but I could feel the corner of my mouth twitching. “You really enjoy doing things your way, don’t you?”
He tilted his head slightly, eyes dancing with amusement. “Only when my way works.”
There it was again, that confident tone, that easy charm that always seemed to knock me off balance. I wanted to argue, to roll my eyes and tell him he was impossible, but instead I found myself watching him. The way the light brushed against his features, how calm he looked sitting there, like this was the most natural thing in the world.
“Stop staring,” he murmured, his voice low but teasing.
“I’m not,” I said too quickly.
His grin deepened. “Sure you’re not.”
I looked away, pretending to study the menu even though my mind wasn’t on the food. I hated how easily he could get under my skin, how quickly he could make a moment feel like something more.
The waiter returned a few moments later, setting down two glasses filled with something amber and smooth. The scent was sweet and smoky.
Rowan lifted his glass toward me. “To surviving your first day.”
I stared at the drink, then at him, my suspicion still very much alive. “If this burns my throat, I’m blaming you.”
“Deal,” he said with a quiet laugh.
I picked up the glass hesitantly, the cool rim pressing against my fingers. “Cheers,” I muttered.
He smiled. “Cheers.”
The moment stretched, soft, charged, unfamiliar, as our glasses clinked gently.
The first sip hit warm and deep, and my eyes widened slightly at the strength. He wasn’t kidding.
Rowan chuckled when he saw my reaction. “Told you.”
I glared at him half-heartedly. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Maybe,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his eyes holding mine. “But I’m also enjoying the company.”
The words caught me off guard, quiet but steady, and I couldn’t quite decide if I wanted to smile… or run.
Because sitting there across from Rowan, with that look in his eyes, it was starting to feel less like a casual dinner and more like something dangerous I wasn’t ready for.
“You look nervous Princess. What are you thinking about?”
There it was again, that word, Princess. But now it didn't sound the way he always said it, all teasing and sharp. It came out softer, like a secret wrapped in velvet, and it sent a little shiver down my spine.
I blinked, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I'm not thinking of anything,” I lied, my voice steadier than I felt.
Rowan raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into that knowing smirk as he lifted his glass to his mouth. He took a slow sip, his eyes never leaving mine. “Are you sure? Because I couldn't help but think about what panties you're wearing under that dress.”
I was mid-sip on my own drink when his words hit, the warm liquid suddenly burning down the wrong way. I nearly choked, coughing as I set the glass down too hard, the clink echoing in my ears. My eyes widened, heat flooding my cheeks as I glanced around the restaurant frantically.
The couple at the next table was lost in their own conversation, the waiter weaving through without a glance our way, but my heart hammered like everyone had heard. “Rowan!” I hissed, leaning forward, my voice a whisper-shout. “What the hell? You can't just say that out loud!”
He chuckled low, that deep rumble that made my stomach twist. Leaning in closer, his elbow on the table, he dropped his voice to match mine, but there was no apology in his eyes, just pure, unfiltered mischief.
“Why not? It's just us here, Princess. And I've been wondering since I picked you up. Are they lace? Something black and sheer that hugs your hips just right? Or maybe something innocent, like cotton, that I'd love to peel off you slowly?”
My breath caught, my thighs pressing together under the table without me meaning to. The way he said it, casual but loaded, like he was discussing the weather while painting pictures in my head that had no business being there. I swallowed hard, trying to play it cool, but my pulse was racing.
You're impossible,” I managed, my fingers twisting the napkin in my lap. “And way too bold for a first dinner.”
“First dinner?” He tilted his head, his gaze dropping for a split second to my lips before flicking back up. “Feels like we've been dancing around this for longer than that. Come on, Nia. Humor me. Tell me what you're hiding under there. I promise I won't make you show me... yet.”
The 'yet' hung in the air, thick and electric, making the space between us feel smaller, hotter. I bit my lip, torn between shoving him away and leaning into the thrill of it. No one had ever talked to me like this, direct, unashamed, like he could see right through my cautious walls. “Well, if this is your attempt at the bet, you're not getting anything out of me,” I said, trying to steer us back to safer ground, my voice a mix of defiance and breathlessness.
Rowan leaned back slightly, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Oh, I've already gotten a reaction, Princess. That's more than enough for now. But if you really want to win this bet, you should be the one luring me in, proving me wrong.”
“What?” I shot back, my brow furrowing as I processed his words. “You were the one who brought up this silly bet, talking about how I'll fall in love with you without you even f*****g me.”
He shrugged, that smug grin never fading. “And shouldn't that mean you try to lure me into wanting to f**k you? Make me break first, that way, you win instead.”
I opened my mouth to fire back a retort, something sharp to shut him down, but the words died on my tongue. I closed it again, staring at him as the realization hit me like a cold splash. How had I missed this three days ago when I'd agreed to his ridiculous challenge? It didn't matter who won or lost, either way, Rowan was going to enjoy every teasing second of it, pushing boundaries, drawing me out, making me squirm. The bet was rigged in his favor from the start, a game designed to keep us both on edge, bodies humming with unspoken need.
- Writer
