Hesitation brimmed in Dakota, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see something creep through her features. Something that shouted reservation and doubt. “I actually have a date,” she quietly admitted. I nearly dropped the plate I was holding to the floor, and I had to set it on the counter so I could regain my bearings. Heart thrashing. Teeth grating. I gave it my all to keep the asshole out of my voice. “Oh yeah? Who’s the lucky guy?” “Brad Geller. We’re going to dinner on Wednesday,” she added quickly. “That’s cool.” Too bad the words sliced like spears.
