This time, I kept my cool. I had already made my decision because rejection meant jumping ship. Anything beat staring at Dylan's slimy mug again.
Silas paused and then flashed a smirk that screamed "I know something you don't." He said, "Alright. But don't you have a boyfriend? Dump him, or this conversation is over. You have got tonight to handle it. Can you handle that?"
His gaze flickered. Was that nervousness? It was barely there, but I caught it. Wait, were those chat comments right? Had he actually been crushing on me all along?
When I stayed silent, his cool-guy act cracked, and panic mode turned on. "Fine, two days. No, three. Just tell me how long you need to clean house. Celebration dinner at The Copper Table tonight. Preference, French or Cajun, the spicy stuff? Cajun, right?
