Because, Brett... [BxB]

Chapter 9: Everybody Loves A Stripper

When the doorbell rings a mixture of unrelenting nerves and anticipation overcomes me. Questions spin in my mind, wondering what he's wearing, where he's going to take me, whether this is even a good idea?

A second later I hear a knock knock knock. In the interest of not leaving Seth out in the cold, with a strong breath in and out, I wipe the sweat my palms had gathered onto my jeans and tug the front door open with a smile.

"Hi," I say, taking in the sight of him in jeans, a white shirt and a grey blazer, all perfectly form fitting.

He stares for a solid 10 seconds, I know because it's so devastatingly quiet I can hear them pass on my watch. In his hands he holds a bouquet of tulips, they're my favourite flower and I find myself trying to recall if I'd mentioned it over our text conversations.

"You look stunning," he finally replies as he thrusts the flowers into my arms. I take them bashfully and back into the house allowing him to follow me into the warm.

Scurrying towards the kitchen, I tell him, "I need to find a vase for these." He voices his agreement as his eyes scan the hallway. I make quick work of trimming the stems and setting the bouquet in water before I place the vase in the middle of the dining table and head back into the foyer to meet Seth. My cheeks once again tint a horrible pick as our eyes catch.

"The flowers are lovely," I thank him.

"I'm glad you like them. Now, let's go, I have a reservation."

I smile as I allow him to lead me back outside to his car, he quickly climbs into the drivers' seat and I stroll around until I'm sitting in the passenger's seat. For the most part we stay silent, not an awkward I-don't-know-what-to-talk-about silent though, it's somewhat comfortable. A few minutes in, Seth turns the radio on. The football comes on and I find myself groaning both internally and externally.

"Not a football fan?" Seth asks, his eyes straying from the road to glimpse at me.

I smile, "Not really. My dad always used to make me watch it. He thought it'd rub off on me or something ridiculous like that. So I guess it kinda became my weekly torture, mostly because there were things I'd rather be doing." Like making out with my boyfriend at the time or sneaking out to go clubbing with friends.

Seth hums in thought, waiting in bated breath for the scores to be shared, 0-2, before he switches the channel to Classical FM. Not quite what I had been expecting but I don't question him, just glance out of the corner of my eye with a quirk to my lips before slumping back into the car seat.

When he pulls into the parking area of one of the nicest restaurants around Le Coeur De La Mer, my heart sinks to my stomach. I don't know how I'm going to tell him, but I've got to spill it somehow otherwise he'll be in for a nasty surprise.

"Seth. . . " I voice, anxiousness probably quite clear in my tone, "We can't go here."

He doesn't say anything for a moment as he's busy steering the car into a spot but as the seconds drag on and he pulls on the hand break he asks, "Why not?"

"My ex is a waitress here."

"She's here tonight?"

"Yes. Tonight." I grimace, dropping my head into my hands at the thought of what Cockslut Chloe would do if she saw me on a date with Mr Hottie here.

He sighs, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"How was I supposed to know you'd choose this place? It's the most expensive restaurant for miles."

"Do I look like the kind of guy who's going to take you to a Maccy D's drive-through before pulling into the nearest car park so we can chat across the hand break whilst hoping that the traffic warden won't show up because I was too stingy to buy a ticket?"

I stifle the giggle, barely, but quip anyway, "You're hilarious."

"Well, it is one of my more amiable qualities." He smiles, but I have to force myself to return to the problem at hand.

"We seriously can't go here unless you want her breathing down our necks the whole time."

His hands clasp onto the steering wheel as he leans back in his seat, eyes closing in thought and I wonder if I've ruined the whole night he had planned. He runs a hand along the stubble on his chin and I decide I'll just give him a moment to figure things out.

"You know, I don't mind Maccy D's," I tell him in hopes of lightening the mood.

He shushes me and I huff, crossing my arms, "I've got a plan, but just know, as long as we're dating, I will never ever take you to McDonald's. Do you know how unhealthy some of the shit there is?"

He's a health nut. It's better it came out now rather than later though, "Like never?" My mouth hangs agape as we stare at each other.

"God, I knew you were too good to be true," he groans as he twists the key in the ignition, firing up the engine again and steering us back out of the carpark, "you're a junk food junkie. . . "

"You first met me because I wanted to eat chocolate cake for breakfast, what did you expect?"

"You're right, it's all my fault," he deadpans.

Half an hour later we end up seated at a pizza place. Not one of those big chains like Prezzo or Pizza Express, it's a little hole in the wall that you'd only know about if you'd lived in the area for a long while. Romeo's. It's quaint, all the tables have a lit candle flickering away in the middle and you can see the roaring pizza oven over the top of the service counter if you're tall enough. Seth certainly is and I can just about see if I tip my head up, or else I have to stand.

The waiting staff all have a slight Italian accent and it occurs to me that it's probably a small family business, you don't really get those much anymore.

"What do you think?" Seth asks, his voice hushed to fit with the quiet atmosphere.

"I think it's really nice," my lips turn up at the corners as I glance back down at my menu, "I prefer Italian to seafood anyway."

"Good."

"I really am sorry your plans were ruined," I say.

My eyes clash with his hazel ones but he shrugs it off just as I expect him too, "As long as you enjoy yourself I don't mind."

Staring down at my menu I finally decide on a Fiorentina and when I ask Seth he divulges his plan to order a Meat Feast. A terrifying thought crosses my mind as he stares me down with a wicked smirk. I'm fully aware he knows the connotations of what he just said and has no intention of clearing the air.

As I sit stunned, he takes the liberty of waving down a waiter and orders for the both of us. The estimated wait time is thirty minutes so there's plenty of time to chat and get to know one another.

"So, I thought we could start out easy. We've already established all these inside jokes about chocolate cake for breakfast and although I won't outwardly say it's a horrible decision, I won't condone it." Unimpressed, I send him a look that lets him know that. "Let's just talk about normal first date stuff, like your interests and your job. Those kinds of things."

"You don't want to know about my job," I confess, "it's not really first date material." The minute he finds out I'm a stripper, he'll be out the door. Everyone loves a stripper until they find themselves dating one. In most people's minds, a stripper in the next closest thing to being a whore and no one wants to think about their significant other giving a lap dance to a stranger.

"Try me," he insists.

"Believe it or not, I actually like you Seth and it'd be such a shame to send you running for the hills so soon. I'd need at least ten glasses of wine before I divulge that information." He smiles despite my forewarning. Is it because I said I liked him? "How about we start with you?" I query.

"There's nothing much to tell. I'm an entrepreneur. I own two businesses, both fairly local and I guess I just got lucky that they turned out well." I nod along, intrigued, and gesture for him to continue. "The first one I started up when I was twenty, so eight years ago now I guess, and was a data handling company, in the beginning, we focused on local clients but it just keeps growing. I won't bore you with the details."

"What about the other?"

"This one was more for my own fun, I co-own it with a friend. You know the gay club on Harley Street?"