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now, saying, “I pretty much just picked the worst possible thing I could bring up during a first date, didn’t I?”
    Her heart rate resumed a normal beat. She took a risk now and reached across the table to retrieve his hand and said, “No, it’s OK, really. If nothing else, it’s interesting that you managed to tap into that about me, after having only known me for –” she glanced at her smart phone ” – for fifteen minutes.”
    “It’s amazing what Google will help you figure out.”
    If she had had a drink in her mouth, she would have spit it all over him. Oh, my God, did he Google her? It’s only fair – she had Googled him. Did he know that she had Googled him? Oh god, was there some way he could have known?
    “Laura?” He reached out and touched her chin, tipping it up to catch her eyes. “That was a joke.”
     
     

     
     
    By the time the waitress brought his meal, which was something that he could not only not pronounce properly, but, by the looks of it, couldn’t even guess at about half the ingredients in it, he felt like he was losing her. Idiot, idiot, idiot! How could he have brought up the burning building scenario on a first date? Within fifteen minutes, no less? God, the look on her face! It was like something collapsed. There was more to it than she was telling; he could see that and it left him with too many questions, inquiries he couldn’t make right now because he was being too stupid for words.
    Yet here he was, babbling on about it like it was no big deal, and that’s what he did for a living, and ha ha ha , and here she was, you know, in charge of saving little kids’ health insurance policies.
    She began to eat her food. He dug into his. Even though he didn’t like it, he welcomed the silence, perplexed by the contradiction but lately his entire life seemed to be one big steaming pile of complexity. He watched her. He took the dinner as an opportunity to just keep an eye on her. To see what she was like. To see if she was…what her body language would give away.
    She kept pulling on the shoulder of her sweater, correcting everything so that the edge of her black silk bra wouldn’t show, and every time she did it, a little part of him tugged. Mostly in the crotch area. But also in his heart. Because, man, was he lovin’ that little piece of black lace right now.
    He forced a mouthful of something that he was afraid might still be half alive in between his teeth. And then, “ Mmmm! ” he groaned. “This is incredible.”
    “Yeah, mine’s luscious.”
    So are you , he thought, spearing a piece of fish and holding out his fork. “Do you want a bite of mine?”
    He held the fork out for her and she looked at him in a certain way, eyes narrowing a bit while cocking her head, one little curl floating out of her ponytail as she tucked it behind her ear and leaned forward. Her lips enveloped the fork, her mouth tugging at the piece of food as he reluctantly pulled the fork away, those lips, those lips closing over the fork. Right now, he wanted part of him to be that fork. A very big, throbbing part of him that no napkin was covering.
    Chewing, she groaned; it was the sound he wanted to hear later at night in his bed or in hers or on somebody’s couch or hell, in the alley by the parking lot at this point. Dylan’s cock strained against his trousers, more aroused then he ever imagined possible, just from watching her eat that scrumptious piece of God knows what.
    “Isn’t it incredible?” he asked.
    “That’s perfection. Where does it comes from?” she asked.
    He glanced over at the menu and replied, “Malaysia and, apparently, Tibet.”
    “Oh, a Malaysian, Tibetan piece of perfection,” she said, then crinkled her brow with a bemused look. “Fishing in Tibet?”
    He shrugged. “The monks have to do something.” A diner at one table over frowned at them and Dylan just let it roll off.
    Laura speared something else on her plate and lifted the fork to him. He