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Dec 14, 2025

Chapter 7: Dinner Maybe

Word count: 4,642

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6

I was nervous. So nervous. I shouldn't be nervous, but I was. It was just dinner. That's all. Dinner with a friend. Just a friend. A friend whom I actually barely knew despite spending a month around him. A friend who was somehow the hottest man I had ever seen. I peered at said friend through my periphery.

Miguel looked relaxed. His focus was purely on the road. He had one hand on the wheel. He leaned his opposite forearm on the console, somehow still tall enough to peer out the windshield comfortably. He wore a deep blue button-up with the top three buttons unbuttoned that showed off a hint of chest hair.

My eyes trailed down to his chest. The buttoned buttons along it were practically struggling to keep the shirt closed. It was a pretty sight, I won't lie. I forced my eyes to look away as soon as I realized I was staring, moving instead to take in the rest of his outfit.

His shirt was tucked into a pair of black slacks and matched with black dress shoes. His hair was combed back the same way he always combed it back. The only accessories he wore were that god-awful watch and a silver chain across his neck. I moved my eyes to the road, ashamed at the fact that I was basically checking him out.

The scent of his cologne drifted to me as soon as my eyes were off him. It was warm and sharp, invading my nose like the Greeks invading Troy. It reminded me a bit of the summer air back home. Harsh on the nose at first, but then soothing. It was a weird combination that made me feel homesick. Just like everything else about him.

I averted my eyes to my lap. The dress Miguel had chosen for me was a burgundy sweater dress that hung off my shoulders and reached halfway down my thighs. Of course, I wasn't about to deal with the cold so I matched it with black leggings. I wore a pair of dark grey, heeled, ankle-high boots that Miguel practically begged me to get. It wasn't like I could say no, he was the one buying everything for me. They did look nice and fit the outfit well. I didn't allow him to buy me jewelry, insisting there was no use buying something I wouldn't wear often. He had given me an intense, unreadable expression before he agreed not to buy me jewelry. If I were honest, I was worried he'd buy me something too expensive.

The clothes were different, they were a necessity. I couldn't deny that he had to spend a lot of money to replace all of my clothes. But to let him buy unimportant items like jewelry? I didn't need jewelry. It wasn't a necessity. I wasn't going to let him waste money on a luxury item. The boots were pushing it already.

I was shocked back to reality by the feeling of Miguel's knuckles brushing against my arm. I turned to him, though his eyes were still on the road.

“Where did you go?” He asked, his voice a low rumble due to the proximity. It reminded me of when he had picked me up from the airport.

“Nowhere? We're in a moving vehicle.” I said to him.

“Not physically, tonta.” He said with a soft lilt in his tone that signified he was joking. “You looked spaced out there. I was wondering where you went.”

I was a bit shocked he noticed. I blinked and stared at him stupidly. I can't tell him I was thinking about him, that's weird. It would sound so…romantic? I did not want him to think I liked him. I knew I didn't. He was way out of my league anyway. Not to mention the age gap. His thirty-six to my twenty-three. That was a thirteen-year age gap. No, thank you.

“I was wondering where we were going to eat.” I lied. I watched his expression to see if he believed me. When he didn't react, I continued. “Considering the casual-formal attire we're wearing, it can't be anything too fancy, right?”

“Aren't you observant?” He commented.

“Thank you.”

“And you're right, of course.”

“I am?”

“Nothing too fancy, but definitely nice. You'll see.”

“A surprise? How bold.”

“Bold? How?”

“Well, you don't know a lot about me.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“You've never asked me what I like to eat. For all you know, wherever you’re taking me could be food I either don't like or can't eat because of allergies.”

“You have food allergies?”

“No, but I could've and you wouldn't have known,” I said. A low rumbling emanated from him. It took me a few seconds to realize he was chuckling.

“Actually, I would have known way before now.”

“You seem confident in that, Mr. O'Hara.”

“I do most of the cooking.” He continued as if I hadn't spoken. “Meaning you would have told me immediately if you were allergic to anything so I didn't accidentally poison you.”

I stared at him. Following his logic, yeah, he could safely assume I wasn't allergic. It was such a tiny detail that the majority of people didn't even think about, but he had. He paid attention to a detail that wasn't even brought to attention in the first place. He paid attention to me. It felt both intrusive and touching.

“Aren't you observant?” I repeated his words through a mumble. He chuckled a little louder, the sound warming my skin. Nothing more was really said on the subject. The conversation just…ended. Just like that. It was an odd halt that filled the silence between us with an air of awkwardness.

I was grateful when we pulled into the parking lot.

The lot was mostly filled so the remaining free spaces were on the opposite end of the entrance. All of the cars looked so shiny and new. I furrowed my brows as we passed by three Ferraris in a row. It was starting to feel less of a casual-formal place and more of a formal place. I glanced at Miguel, but he showed no difference in his expression or body language. He looked just as relaxed as before. The car started to slow, diverting my gaze from him to the windshield. My jaw nearly went slack at the sight.

An old man was crossing in front of us. He wore clothes similar to Miguel's but paired with a plaid sweater vest. His white hair was slicked back and his matching mustache was well-groomed. He wore light colored shades despite it being nighttime. He looked friendly with his bright smile. He was laughing so loud I could hear it inside the car.

But what shocked me most about the man was his companions. Six incredibly gorgeous women surrounded him, each one having at least one hand on his shoulders or arms. They all wore dresses in varying styles and colors. Their makeup made them look ethereal and godly. Their necks, arms, and fingers were decorated with gold jewelry that was adorned with the biggest diamonds I had ever seen. The headlights made them sparkle so brightly, it made me believe I had astigmatism.

I watched the group walk across before glancing at Miguel. It was hard to tell whether or not he was watching them. I mean, he was driving. Of course, he had to watch them so he could drive forward once they crossed. Or maybe he was ogling them. Not that I cared if he was. He could do what he wanted. It wasn't like I'd be jealous or mad that he was staring. I wasn't his girlfriend. Just his roommate he was taking out to a fancy dinner. They were gorgeous women. Anyone would stare at them.

I needed to stop thinking about this.

I looked out my window to distract myself as Miguel began driving again. I hadn't noticed the restaurant right next to us. It was a large, one-story building made up of red bricks. A giant neon sign above the doors read “Gargan's Hot Plate.” There were several other neon signs decorating the tinted windows that promoted different beer brands. My eyes moved away from the signs to instead land on the bouncer standing beside the doors. Beside him, there was a long line of people trailing from the door, waiting to get in. I watched the scene disappear behind us. I turned to Miguel.

“There's a really long line for this place.”

“It's fairly popular.” He answered. I waited for more but he stayed silent.

“So it's safe to assume it's full and there's a waiting list?” I prompted.

“Correct.”

“So how are we getting in?” I asked bluntly when he didn't catch on to what I was hinting at. The man dared to smirk and say nothing. He knew something and was purposely not telling me. The thought brought out a scoff. I crossed my arms and slumped in my seat. I turned my face away from him, pouting. Why was he keeping secrets from the person he was supposedly taking to dinner?

Apparently, chivalry is dead. I thought bitterly as Miguel pulled into a parking spot. I unbuckled my seat belt and reached for the door handle. The telltale click of the lock sounded right before I pulled on the handle. I turned to look at Miguel, but anything I was about to say died on my tongue when I met that intense, unreadable expression on his face. The same one from the mall.

“Wait for me to open your door.” He told me.

“What?” I asked in exasperation. “No, I can open my own door.”

“I know you can, but I want to be a gentleman and open your doors for you.” He said calmly, not once breaking eye contact. I felt my cheeks start to warm. It was like he knew I was questioning him. His knuckles brushed along my arm again. When he spoke, his voice was softer and somehow deeper.

“Will you allow me to? Please?”

Oh…Oh, fuck me. I thought. This was just not fair! It was like he just knew what would make me melt.

Allow? Allow?! Like I was a queen being asked permission from a peasant?! Oh, and that stupid eye contact he was still holding! I just about folded right then and there.

With a sigh, I removed my hand from the door handle. I watched Miguel give me a genuine, almost excited, smile. Gods, it was so cute. The click of the lock sounded through the car and through my thoughts. He finally broke eye contact and shut off the engine before getting out. I watched him walk around the front of the car and up to my door. He opened it and immediately offered me his hand. I stared at his hand briefly before taking it. He helped me out of the car and closed the door behind me. The car locked with a short beep. He then tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow. Once securely at his side, he led me to the restaurant.

I was in a daze. This was so new to me. He just singlehandedly threw my anger and annoyance out the window and made me accept his help. Again! How the hell did he do it?!

He's a fuckin’ wizard. I thought. Miguel went into a sudden coughing fit, making me jump.

“Jesus, are you okay?” I asked him, trying to peer up at his face. I couldn't get a good view due to his turning his head away and pressing his fist to his mouth.

“Fine.” He said, his voice a bit hoarse. “Just choked on my spit, is all.”

I wasn't too convinced until he finally faced me again. He cleared his throat and gave me a reassuring smile.

“Trust me, I'm fine.” He said. I frowned.

“If you insist.” I faced back forward just as we crossed to the restaurant. I started to veer to the line before Miguel tugged me back to his side, walking to the doors.

“Where are you going?” He asked with a questioning brow and humor in his tone.

“To the end of the line?” I answered, suddenly unsure of what I was doing.

“Why?”

“Because-”

“Mr. O'Hara.” The bouncer interjected, his voice stern and cold. My eyes snapped to him. He was every single bouncer stereotype known to man. Large build, tall, biceps as big as my head probably. He had pale skin and blonde, short-cropped hair. He was also wearing sunglasses for some reason. Who the heck wore sunglasses at night?

The question quickly left my mind as my eyes settled on his very tight shirt.

Jesus, look at those pillows. I thought. I felt my cheeks start to warm.

“Benny. How's the wife?” Miguel's words sliced through my thought and shattered it into a million pieces. I averted my gaze, embarrassed. Of-fucking-course he's married.

“She's great. Taking care of the little one.” Benny answered. His voice didn't shift at all when talking about his family. I couldn't tell if he was the broody type who only had a soft spot for his “sunshine” or if he simply didn't care.

Maybe it was part of the job.

“Glad to hear,” Miguel replied. Though, he didn't sound even remotely glad. If anything, he sounded disinterested. Cold, even. But that didn't make sense. He asked. I glanced up at him. A difficulty being right next to him. I had to reel my head back to even see his face. I felt myself freeze as soon as I saw him.

His face was so…dark.

Miguel's usually brown eyes had lost their shine, the neon lights reflecting off them and making them look red. His eyebrows were set with only a crease separating them. The corners of his mouth downturned ever so slightly to showcase his disapproval. I would've been fooled into believing it was just disapproval if it wasn't for the look in his eyes. Sharp, cold, and hateful. Benny would either be dead or burning to death under that gaze. Then, his eyes shifted to me. Immediately, he softened. The cold turned to warmth and the light returned to his eyes. He turned into a completely different person right in front of my eyes. Whoever was glaring Benny down before was gone.

Just gone.

I blinked, absolutely perplexed. Miguel shot me a small smile before turning back to Benny. What the hell was that? Did I imagine that? Impossible, right? Was there something I'm missing? Was this just how they interacted with each other? They obviously knew each other on a personal level, so maybe? And what was with that smile? Was he trying to reassure me? Did I need reassurance?

I blinked again and looked away. Tonight was weird.

“Mind showing us in?” Miguel asked, his tone polite again. Benny nodded.

“Of course.” He said and opened the door.

“Thank you,” Miguel replied. He didn't even look at Benny as he led me through the door. I gave Benny a small wave goodbye. A wave that was met with the briefest of nods. Poor Benny. I looked up at Miguel again. He still looked fine.

“Miguel, what was—” I started to ask.

“Mr. O'Hara, what a pleasure it is to see you again.” An elegant voice said. I looked at the source. The hostess in front of us wore an award-winning smile. Her eyes, however, appeared hollow and tired. Her eyes drifted to mine and I looked away immediately.

“The usual booth, Mr. O'Hara?” The hostess asked. I looked back to see that her gaze had returned to Miguel.

“No. Get me something a little more private.” He answered. I watched the hostess’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise. The expression was quickly wiped from her face as her smile came back full force. She grabbed two menus and walked around the podium she had been standing behind.

“Right this way.” She led us into the restaurant. Miguel pulled me along. I was glad he did cause my mind was a million miles away.

The staff knew him by name and vice versa. He knew them well enough to know personal information about the staff. The staff saw him often enough to have a table for him at the ready. How often did he come here? Did he come alone? With someone? Did…did he take dates here?

No, stop, that's absurd. He hardly had enough time to be home. I doubted he had any time for dating. Unless work wasn't the only thing keeping him busy. I mean, he could do whatever he wanted. He was a grown ass man. He wasn't obligated to tell me what he did with his free time. He didn't have to hang out with me. For all I knew, he probably just didn't like being around me that much.

“Here you are.” The hostess said. I blinked and looked up. The table the hostess had led us to was a two-person table that was tucked away in the backmost corner of the restaurant. It was private, just like Miguel requested. A sudden roar of laughter sounded from the other side of the divider. Well, private enough.

“A server will be with you shortly.” The hostess said, placing down the menus. Then she was gone. Wordlessly, Miguel released my hand from his elbow and pulled out one of the chairs. It took me a second too long to realize what he was doing.

“Oh! Um, thank you.” I muttered as I took the seat. I let out a gasp when he pushed my seat in, sliding it like butter. I felt my cheeks burn. I was still not used to his strength.

“You're welcome.” He responded, his voice dangerously close to my ear. I stiffened. I felt him move away from me and into my line of sight, relaxing as soon as he was. He sat opposite me and grabbed the menus, handing me one. I thanked him again and took it. I opened it and gave a glance at the choices.

Steak, chicken, pasta, and seafood. It all looked so good from what the pictures showed. I could feel my hunger hitting me full force. I hadn't eaten since breakfast. Our shopping spree made us lose track of time and forget about food. My eyes darted to picture after picture and to each listed dish. It all looked so good! My eyes finally moved from the food to the prices. I felt my stomach plummet with my hunger.

So expensive… I thought as I took in the eighties, nineties, hundreds, and even up to a hundred-twenty bucks. I've never seen prices that high for food. Maybe seafood, but—

“Ashley.” Came Miguel's voice. A smooth, almost melodic noise. It rang a warning bell in my head. My eyes darted up, peering at him through my lashes. He was fully focused on me. His menu lay closed and flat on the table. Was he watching me? Waiting for me to choose? Did he already know what he wanted? His gaze was unwavering. Intense. It was like he was peering right into my soul. My heart skipped a beat.

“Yes?” I finally managed after a few frozen moments. His hand reached across the table and brushed his knuckles against my own. I watched it happen in slow motion.

Should my pulse be racing?

“What did I say about the price?” His voice was softer now, but no less dangerous. My eyes snapped up to him again. They were hypnotic.

“That w-was for the clothes.” I protested weakly. I mentally cursed myself for stuttering. The corner of his mouth twitched upward for half a second before dropping. I felt a small spike of anger.

Is he laughing at me?

“What. Did I say. About the price?” He asked again. Slow. Emphasizing each word. Almost threatening. A shiver rolled down my spine and shook my thought loose. There was no mirth in his voice, eyes, or features. Just a demand for an answer. I swallowed the lump that started to form in my throat.

“Not to worry about it,” I replied quietly. A look of satisfaction rolled over his features.

“Exactly.” He said, sitting back in his chair. My knuckles felt cold without his warmth. “Never worry about the price when you're with me. Choose what you want, okay?”

“Okay.” I heard myself replying.

“Atta girl.” Miguel smiled and finally lifted his menu and opened it, breaking our eye contact and releasing me from his invisible hold. I almost dropped my head to my menu.

Jesus. I released the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I felt hot all over. His stare, the way he spoke, his touch, his praise. It did a number on me. I clenched my thighs together.

I felt ashamed. He was my roommate for crying out loud! Not only that, but he was also way older than me! My feelings were not following my logic. This was going to be a difficult dinner.

“Shock.” Miguel breathed, making me look up. He was looking at his watch. The orange screen was lit up. He looked at the watch, then at me. His annoyed expression immediately turned apologetic. “I have to go.”

Maybe not.

“What?” I asked. I felt a bubble burst. I watched Miguel stand and push in his chair.

“Work needs me.” He said. He took out his wallet and handed me his card. I froze.

He's giving me his card?! I took it with a shaky hand. It was baffling that he trusted me enough to give it to me. My eyebrows knit together, my brain cells finally connecting an actual thought. I looked up at him.

“Wait, I thought you said you were off.” I pointed out. The only reason we even went shopping together was because he was free to do so. He gave me an apologetic smile that made my stomach flip.

“Being head of my team, I have to be available when they need me.” He explained briefly. I frowned, making him sigh.

“It's probably just a check-in for something. I'll be back before you finish eating.”

“Promise?” It felt silly to ask, but I felt the need to. It wasn't like I minded eating alone. What I minded was making plans to eat with someone and ending up eating alone.

“I promise.” He said warmly. He leaned in slightly before stopping. His eyes darted away from mine for a moment. They were quick to return as he leaned away. He cleared his throat and walked the way we had come. I turned in my seat to watch him go, half expecting him to look back. He didn't but even with his back turned and his eyes off me, he was still intimidating.

Intimidatingly gorgeous. I thought as my eyes roamed the expanse of muscle spread across his back. His shirt left little to the imagination with how well it was fitted. My eyes cascaded down his back and were practically glued to his butt. Two perfect globes. And I thought Spider-Man's butt was amazing.

He took a turn and disappeared from my view. I blinked. My cheeks flushed hot. I quickly turned forward in my seat.

Did I just ogle at my roommate while his back was turned? I groaned and hid my face in my hands. They were quickly warmed.

“How creepy can I be?” I muttered to myself.

“Miss?” A voice called from beside me. I pulled my face out of my hands and straightened up. A man in a waiter's uniform looked down at me with a hint of concern. I flashed him my best smile.

“Yes?” I made sure to make my voice as polite as possible and not guilty at all. The waiter's concern only lasted a second longer before it was swept away by a bright smile.

“Can I get you started with anything?” He asked.

“Um.” I looked down at the card in my hand. I curled my fingers around it and looked back up at the waiter.

“Yeah. Where are your drinks listed?”

Miguel's hands curled into fists. He clenched his jaw until he was sure his teeth would break from the force. He had asked if they had this. He had asked throughout the entire day if they had it. He was always given a resounding yes. He was told they had this and he could take the day off. Of course, right when he had finally started to break through Ashley's walls, they suddenly needed him. Right when he actually needed to be with her, they needed him.

He was going to break someone's neck for this.

Everyone, staff and customers alike, scrambled and stumbled out of his way. He couldn't blame them. He was a large man with murder in his eyes. It would be stupid not to jump out of his way. He growled as he marched his way out of the restaurant and out to the parking lot. Once he was several rows in, he slowed his gait. A quick glance around told him he was alone. He pulled up his watch.

“Lyla!” He barked. With a sharp beep, a small hologram of a woman materialized from the watch. She had short-cropped, brown hair and an angled face. She wore large, pink heart-shaped shades and a white fur overcoat that almost swallowed her form.

“Ooh. See, I told Jess you wouldn't be happy to receive her comm.” She said. Her tone edged on teasing despite the nervous smile on her orange-tinted face. Miguel's only answer was a growl.

“What's so important that Jess couldn't handle herself?” He demanded through gritted teeth. Lyla cleared her throat and straightened her coat. An orange screen popped up beside her. A portrait of a monstrous reptile filled the screen. Text scrolled into view beside the portrait. Most of it was random blabber about the monster. Miguel's eyes latched onto the titling text.

DR. CONNORS - EARTH 351

THREAT LEVEL: ALPHA 1

“Earth 351 got blasted off to another dimension. Jess already called three other Spiders. They're all struggling with this Godzilla.” Lyla stated.

“He's not nearly as big as Godzilla.” Miguel scoffed.

“No, but he is really big and terrifyingly strong. They need your help, Miguel.” The sincerity and worry were so genuine in Lyla's voice that he almost forgot she was an AI.

Miguel stared at the screen with Connors’ information. Then, he looked back at the restaurant. A big part of him wanted to tell Lyla to call on more Spiders to help. He wanted to go back to Ashley.

He worked so hard to get her to this point. He had spent every day microdosing her to let him pay for her. He bought at least one meal a day until she had stopped protesting. He had himself and Jess make her ride as passenger so she'd be used to the treatment. Hell, he even went as far as sabotaging her job applications so she would continue to rely on him. Ashley was just so infuriatingly independent. He was sure that if it weren't for the mail incident, she wouldn't have turned to him for help.

Of course, the one thing I don't cause. He thought bitterly.

“Miguel, Jess is sending another distress signal. What do you wanna do?” Lyla asked, her tone urgent. Miguel turned back to his AI. His jaw set and his eyebrows pinched together. Jess owed him.

“Take me there.” He growled. His Spider Suit phased on as a portal opened up before him. His surroundings glowed with the portal's orange light. He stepped into the portal and disappeared into the light. The portal closed behind him, leaving the world in darkness.

Translations

Ch 8

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