Chapter 3

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Three more red flags occurred before our food came to our table at the restaurant.

Once we sat at the table, my knee would not stop bouncing. I had pulled the hood of my costume down because I looked ridiculous, being the only person in a costume. I kept the menu flat on the table, afraid that if I held it, Wilder would see my hands tremble. He barely glanced at the paper menu in front of him.

There were no vegetarian options. We were already sitting in the restaurant, so I could not leave. It would be rude. Despite Wilder giving me nine warning signs, I found him outrageously attractive. Men like Wilder were never into girls like me. I could not ruin this chance.

A waiter came to the table. He had a stain on his white T-shirt and a pencil tucked behind his ear.

"What can I get you?" he asked.

Wilder owned a cheap beer that I had not drunk since university. That was when he showed me his next toxic trait.

"She will have one too," he told the waiter.

Red flag number ten: he orders for you at a restaurant.

My eyes went wide when I looked at him. I planned on only getting a soda. My head was still light from the tequila shot he had ordered me. Wilder was unphased by my shocked expression and ordered a burger.

"I'll just have some fries," I said before he could order me something with meat.

The waiter nodded before walking away from the table. Wilder raised a brow as he looked at me. My fingers fiddled with each other under the table. How could he make my heart flutter so much? Could he tell that I was nervous?

"Just some fries?" he asked.

"That bean burger must no longer be on the menu," I said.

Wilder shrugged. The waiter returned with two beers. I let out a shaky breath as Wilder stared at me. Taking a sip of the beer, I tried not to contort my face in disgust. Even back in university, I never liked the taste.

"Do you come here often?" I asked.

"I used to," he said. "My ex and I used to come here every Friday night."

"That's nice."

Wilder laughed, which came out as a snort and raised his glass.

"No, it wasn't," he said. "She was an absolute psycho. I sure know how to pick them."

Red flag number eleven: he thinks all of his exes are crazy.

I chewed on my lip. Did he think I was nuts? Was that some kind of dig at me? Was I going to be some future nightmare story he would tell other girls on dates?

My worries eased when Wilder reached out across the table. He had his palm facing up. Curling in his fingers, he motioned for me to hold his hand. Happily, I slid my hand into his. Could he feel the sweat on my palms?

"You're gorgeous, Harriet," he said.

"Harley," I corrected him.

"Okay, you're gorgeous, Harley," he said my name correctly but with a bit of sarcasm. "Do you know that?"

My body betrayed me, and blush ran to my cheeks. I tried to pull away in an attempt to cover my face, but he tightened his hold on me. The heat rushed to my face as I was stuck and forced to look at him. He was smirking. He must do that a lot.

He's lying to you, the little voice in my head was screaming.

He was the kind of guy that any girl would want. Why did he talk to me and take me out of the bar? I felt like a complete loser, sitting here in a Pokemon costume. It made me blush a deeper red.

"Um." I cleared my throat, trying to think of something to say. "Thank you."

"You don't believe me?" he asked.

"I am wearing an Eevee costume," I said. "I feel a little ridiculous."

"I keep on imagining what you must look like underneath it."

Red flag number twelve: he makes sexual remarks on a first date.

Was this a first date? It must be.

My jaw was hanging open, and it caused him to chuckle. He winked at me before leaning back in his seat. After he freed his hand, I wiped my sweaty palm on my thigh.

I had not had sex in months. Since breaking up with David, I have only had a string of bad first dates. Most guys would try to take me home, but I found them too awkward or unattractive to attempt a one-night stand with them. How come people never looked like their online photos?

Meeting Wilder was refreshing. I could not remember the last time I met a guy in a bar. Everything always seems to happen over dating apps. This was spontaneous and exciting. I loved it.

My stomach twisted in a knot when I thought back to his comment. Wilder did look like my dream man. I probably would not stop him if he tried to bring me home. I was glad I had shaved this morning, but I wished I had chosen more attractive underwear. Why could I not have put on a thong tonight?

"Why are you so embarrassed?" Wilder asked.

"I'm not," I said.

My voice came out in a high-pitched squeak, making it evident that I was lying. Wilder chuckled before taking another drink from his glass.

"You're so adorable," he said.

I covered my mouth to try and suppress my nervous giggle. Luckily, the waiter came to the table with our food. He set the burger in front of Wilder and the plate of fries in front of me. I thanked him before he walked away.

"You're sure you do not want a burger?" Wilder asked.

He clearly did not listen to me saying I was a vegetarian, but I saw it as him caring for me. He wanted to ensure I ate, so I thought it was sweet.

Why do I always do this to myself?

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