Page 16 of Forgotten Prejudice

“I can’t say this is the same as the one in Europe, but it’s as close as it gets,” Soren said, referring to the winery we were led through while being walked to our tables. “I would have taken you to Tuscany if it weren’t for school and work. But perhaps, next time, we can arrange a long weekend?”

My heart missed a beat, not only because he’d just described my secret fantasy but also because he mentioned a next time.

Does that mean he likes me?

“I don’t think I can afford to go there,” I said, feeling sad because it could have been a dream come true.

Shaking his head, Soren placed his hand behind my back and leaned close. “When you’re saying such cute things, I find it hard to resist.” He let go of me and went on to speak with the waiter, leaving me confused.

Resist? Resist what? And what part about me being broke was cute?

I couldn’t dive deeper into it because soon, we sat down next to a small table with a stunning view of the valley. It was just then that the sun began to set, painting the sky with beautiful shades of peach.

Not a minute had passed, and the waiter had already placed the first dish before me. I looked down at the fancy-looking plate, beef tartare, and then up to Soren.

“I hope you don’t mind that I took the initiative and ordered for us,” he explained while spreading a white napkin over his lap. “This is a three-star restaurant. The waiting list is around two years in advance, but thankfully, the chef is a dear family friend, and he made sure we’d have the best table.”

Did I mind it? Not at all. If anything, I found it flattering that he’d taken the time to think all this through.

“Is this why you asked me if I had any allergies?” I asked while debating with myself if I should start eating or wait for him.

“Yes.” Soren smiled. “I have the most annoying allergy to mushrooms, so I always make sure to check.”

“Is it a bad one?” I used to have a friend who had a life-threatening allergy to peanuts.

“If you ever want to kill me, give me a champignon mushroom.” He winked, and I chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“Here, try this.” Putting a bit from the tartare on his fork, Soren then brought it to my mouth. Parting my lips for him, I took the small bite.

It tasted weird, and I guess my face was telling because Soren laughed.

“You don’t like it?”

“No.” I shook my head, an awkward smile on my face. “It’s not that. It’s just so… raw?”

“That’s the point of tartare.” His voice was adoring. “But it can be an acquired taste, same as with wine, and speaking of which, I would have offered you a drink, but as you’re not twenty-one yet, it’s a bit problematic.”

My cheeks burned with the shame of my lie. I wondered how he’d react when he found out about my real age. Pushing the thought aside, since I’d rather enjoy my date, I took another bite of the beef.

“You know, on second thought, it doesn’t taste too bad,” I lied again since it was still too fucking raw.

As dinner progressed, so did our conversation. If at first there was awkwardness, little by little, my stress began to disappear, until I truly enjoyed myself. Soren was so charming and handsome that half the time, I didn’t even realize he’d spoken because I was so immersed in his looks.

“Are you any good at it?” Soren asked after I told him I love surfing.

“I did participate in a few competitions and even won first place, but I don’t think I’m better than anyone else.” I also planned on making a career out of surfing, but I couldn’t tell him that without selling myself out.

Shaking his head, Soren leaned back on his chair. “If you won first place, you’re most definitely better than others, Ashton. It almost sounds like you’re apologizing for winning.”

It wasn’t that I felt bad for taking first place, but more like I didn’t enjoy the attention that came with it. I didn’t surf to win prizes but because I loved it. I’d only started to compete after realizing it was the best way to make a career out of surfing. Which could be awesome, considering I hated school.

“I just don’t like to brag,” I said.

“It’s not bragging when it’s justified.” Soren tilted his head, his stunning eyes piercing into me. “Don’t be ashamed of being a winner.”

I somehow found his cockiness sexy. Was that weird?