Did I Mention I Need You? (The DIMILY Trilogy Book 2) by Estelle Maskame Read Free Book Online Page B

an open-air setting. It looks adorable, and by the time Tyler leads me over to the door he’s got a sheepish smile on his lips.
    “I, uh, asked around my building for recommendations,” he admits, “and a lot of people said this place is the best Italian restaurant around. I hope it lives up to the hype for you.”
    “I’ll bet it’s great,” I say feebly, trying to reassure him. I can’t figure out why he seems to have put so much effort into this. It’s just a simple meal, yet it’s as though he’s trying to make everything perfect. He shouldn’t care this much. He doesn’t need to impress me. I’m just his stepsister.
    We head inside, and although we’re slightly late our waitress takes us over to our table without a problem. It’s right at the back, by the collection of Italian wines. I sit myself down opposite Tyler and quickly study the restaurant. The tables are wooden, the lighting is dim, it’s rather small, and there’s a soft breeze finding its way inside through the open doors at the front. I prefer it back here, out of sight of those passing by on the sidewalk. I listen closely as I try to decide whether or not I can hear music playing, and after a moment I realize that there is none, only the voices of the people around us, mixed with some occasional laughter. The atmosphere feels intimate.
    Tyler taps his fingers on the table in front of me to reel my attention back in. His eyes are smoldering when I glance up. “Good enough to stay or bad enough to walk out?”
    “Good enough to stay,” I say, with a nod of approval. “I like it.”
    “Hopefully the food doesn’t suck.” He picks up my menu, opens it, and then hands it to me. He reaches for his own. “Choose anything and everything you want. It’s on me.”
    “You’re being too nice.” I study him suspiciously over the top of my menu, but he just shrugs, still smiling. I’m starting to wonder if he’ll ever stop.
    “What can I say? I’m the nicest guy around.”
    I press my lips together and lift the menu up higher to hide my face. “I think your roommate’s egotism has rubbed off on you.”
    He laughs, but it’s soft and gentle, and just as I think he’s about to reply, our waitress approaches us to order our drinks. She’s young, perhaps around our age, but she’s sweet. She disappears for five minutes to get our drinks while we scan the menu.
    Tyler ends up squinting at the endless list of Italian words, biting his lip repeatedly as he struggles to comprehend the language. I’d point out that the English translation is on the reverse side, but his confusion makes him look cute, so I keep quiet.
    “This is so confusing,” he says after a while, glancing up at me. My eyes are boring into his, but I don’t bother to look away. “Why couldn’t you love Spanish food?”
    I lay my menu down, having decided what I’m going for, and then prop my arms up on the table, resting my chin in my hands. “Say something.”
    “What?”
    “In Spanish,” I say. “Say something in Spanish.”
    Tyler furrows his eyebrows at me. “Why?”
    “I like it when you do.”
    For a long moment, he thinks. I can see the gears in his mind shifting as he considers what to say to me, almost like he needs a minute to string a sentence together. Maybe he’s not so fluent after all. “ Me estoy muriendo por besarte, ” he murmurs quietly, almost rasping. Leaning forward, he folds his arms on the table and looks at me intensely, and I become aware that we’re in such close proximity to one another that I can almost feel his breath as he speaks. It causes mine to catch in my throat. “I just told you that the waitress is coming.”
    I glance to my left and, of course, our waitress is approaching us with our drinks, and Tyler immediately leans back in his seat. I wish he hadn’t moved.
    Tyler orders the capellini primavera (without the chicken broth, of course, given he’s a vegetarian), giving his best attempt at Italian pronunciation,