I narrow my eyes at my dinner date. Timofey is sitting next to me, conveniently outside the range of the chandelier should it come tumbling down. One hand is on the back of my chair, the other wrapped around the stem of his wine glass.
He is effortless charm and s*x. No wonder the waitress doesn’t give a single f**k what I think.
“Relax,” he says, leaning in to whisper the words in my ear. “We’re having a nice time.”
“Why does it feel like you’re saying that with a gun pointed at my back?”
“Because you’re always looking for the catch,” he says. “For the real reason someone is showing interest in you. Your entire life has been a lesson in never letting your guard down, so when someone is being genuinely nice to you, you don’t recognize it.”
I blink at him in shock. Timofey sips his win
