Chapter 3

"So, Amelia-Jane. Tell me something you've never told anyone before." He teases.

And I don't like it.

"Why would I do that? We just met."

"After tonight, we probably won't see each other again, so why does it matter?"

Because you'll only get me in trouble. Because I don't want you and your million followers to know I even exist. Because I don't trust you. Because I never tell anybody anything.

Because it's fucking weird. That's why.

Once we've established that I'm not going to answer his question, he continues.

"Here, I'll go first. I have never paid anyone to go on a date with me."

No shit, Sherlock. I believe that's called an escort.

I give him the cheesiest smile I can possibly muster. "And it's a great honor to be your first."

He only rolls his eyes, allowing silence to replace the previous conversation. He knows I'm deflecting, so he just sits, staring into my soul, waiting for me to give something up.

I let out a long sigh. "I don't know. I guess I really want to learn how to take professional pictures and editing and stuff. I love being a microbiology lab tech at the hospital, but it would be fun to do just as a side hobby. I have a pretty good camera, too, but I guess I just haven't found the right muse."

"Microbiology? What the fuck do you do? I would have guessed you were a science nerd, but I did seriously question it when you started rapping earlier."

"Haha. Very funny." I can feel the sarcasm dripping from my thin lips. "You're just jealous that I knew more of the lyrics than you did."

"Extremely jealous." He taunts, matching my level of sass before quickly dropping back to normal. "So, what's stopping you?"

"Nothing I guess." I don't really have an excuse. I just never have. "Well, right now, I just moved here. I'm not going to walk up to people and ask to take their picture. That's weird. They would think I'm crazy."

"Fuck what other people think." He replies a little too loudly. "Just do what makes you happy."

"Oh, really? Is that how it works?" I question rhetorically. "Well, Declan Wilder. What would make you happy?"

"Getting paid to do what I love and making a difference in people's lives. I don't care who thinks I'm an idiot. It's fucking LA."

He has a point, but still.

"You make it sound so simple. Like there aren't bills and relationships, and don't even get me started if you want to have a kid. There's just too much future to worry about."

He gives me a nonchalant shrug before answering with a question. "Why worry about something before it even comes?"

In my brain, red lights are flashing, papers are flying, and the little people are running around like the building is on fire. I don't really have an answer, but I know he's wrong. He has to be.

The smell of fresh homemade pizza makes me want to do my little happy dance, and as soon as our waiter sets the pan down, I'm pulling off the first piece and shoving it into my mouth.

Wilder hasn't moved. He's just staring at me with those wide blue eyes.

"Damn, Amelia-Jane. I swear it isn't going to disappear. You don't have to fight for it."

"My bad. I haven't eaten since like ten this morning." I mumble, sheepishly smiling as I swallow the massive bite I just took. "And by the way, most people just call me AJ."

He takes a moment to look me over. "I like it. AJ fits you better."

As he reaches towards the end of the table, I see some black and grey shading on his inner forearm that I hadn't noticed until now.

When he hands me a napkin, I motion towards his wrist and ask, "What's that?"

"A tattoo."

"Really? I just assumed it was a branding from the cult that raised you." I pause long enough to take a sip of my drink. "Seriously, though. What is it of?"

He turns his arm to show me a simple clock with a detailed rim and hands, but the top is broken. There's a large dove flying through the pieces at the top with a few more simple bird designs flying off to the left. It's topped off with a rose just below the crook of his elbow. It seems simple, but the design is quite exquisite.

"So, why the broken clock and birds?"

"I just liked the design."

"Bullshit." I call, nearly spitting my drink out of my mouth.

Oof. I should have swallowed, but it's hard when you have to call bullshit.

"Typical AJ. Gotta have some reason for everything."

Now, he's the one deflecting by making fun of me.

"Well, how many do you have?" I ask before shoveling another bite into my mouth.

"Just this one for now, but I'm thinking about getting another one. Maybe on my back, like right where nails dig in when—"

Nope. No sir. Don't even finish that sentence. Where does he come up with this stuff?

"I don't even want to know." I interrupt. "I believe it's time for you to tell me something you've never told anyone now. For real this time."

I grab a second piece of pizza while Wilder attempts to look like he's thinking. This man is going to lie straight through his pretty little teeth, but it may be fun to see what he comes up with.

"I've never paid anyone to go on a date with me, but I did pay a girl to stop talking to Chris once." He says casually without making eye contact.

"Are you serious? Why?"

"She was a bitch, and all she wanted was clout and expensive shit. She'd eventually break his heart, and I'd be stuck with his whiney ass."

He may do stupid things, but that's kind of sweet. Interesting actions but good intentions.

"So, there is a screwed up heart somewhere underneath your playboy exterior."

"I swear, if he ever finds out, I'll—" he hesitates and traits off.

"What, Wilder? What are you going to do?" Now, it's my turn to deviously smirk.

He likes to use his dominant personality and charm to make it seem like he's the alpha in the room, but I can see right through his little act. All he can do is smile and roll his eyes.

That's what I thought.

"What's with the calling me by my last name shit? I haven't been called that since I played football in high school."

"I don't know. I'm not really sure where that came from. Sorry, I didn't realize it bothered you."

"It doesn't. It's just funny. You're the only person that's ever done that." We both go to grab another piece of pizza. "You're also the only girl I've ever had dinner with to eat four pieces of pizza in one sitting."

"I guess I'm just a different breed."

I was hoping he wouldn't notice. Oh, well.

Conversation is a lot easier now. I don't know if I'm deliriously tired or someone else has taken over my body completely because this is the longest I've ever lasted on something that feels like a date. It could also be that I'm on my fourth piece of pizza in front of an attractive stranger who said he would pay me $200 just because I left a party with him.

However, as surprisingly pleasant this has been, I am miserably full and ready for my food coma.

"I think it's about time for my lazy ass to get home. Is it too early for you to get back?"

"Nah, we would have been fine ten minutes after we left. I've got a record at how fast I can make a girl climax."

Everytime this starts to feel like two normal people, he goes and says something like that. I've never met anyone so comfortable with himself. I can't help but roll my eyes.

"You sure are a lot of talk, Declan Wilder."

One small step towards me leaves his face inches from mine as he hooks his index finger under my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his.

"Roll your eyes at me again, and I'll have to show you."

That was kind of hot. I don't think I've ever been so uncomfortable, yet turned on all at once. I find it best to take a step back and create some space between us before he turns to get into the Jeep.

Even though I live like a couple of blocks away, he insists on driving me home. Usually I would fight it, but it can be a tad bit sketchy at nearly midnight. Once we arrive, he catches me before I can climb out.

"I should probably get your Snapchat or number or something, just in case."

He hands me his phone, and I start typing in my info while he pulls out his wallet. It will take him all of two days to forget I even existed, so it doesn't really matter until he's trying to hand me two crisp bills. Either my strict morals have kicked in or maybe I finally see Wilder as a human because suddenly I don't want his money anymore.

"Wilder, you don't have to do that. You got me out of that terrible party and paid for dinner."

"No, seriously. Take it. A deal is a deal. I don't go back on my word. All I wanted to do was win the bet."

"Wilder, really—"

He shoves it into my hand and says, "Think of it as a down payment on some fire pictures you're going to take of me one day."

He remembered.

"But how am I—," Before I can finish my sentence, my phone buzzes.

Unknown number: I heard you take some fire pics. Hmu when you need some practice.

"I'm serious." He says when my eyes finally reach his.

"Okay, but only if dinner is on me next time." I try to look as stern as possible, but I'm afraid it's not very intimidating.

He just smiles and shakes his head. "Okay, deal." He pauses for a moment before adding, "You're not exactly what I expected you to be."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good." He smiles, leaning closer.

No, he didn't kiss me goodnight. I climbed out of the car.

And you better not judge me for wishing he did.