It wasn’t a nickname, familiar and loving. It was said to put him in his place, even if, when they’d had this conversation, if he recalled, Axl had been twenty-nine, and he still called him that, and Axl was thirty-four.

So yeah, he hated that.

And second, Axl did not view life as one competition after another.

He wanted people to be honest with him. He wanted them to respect him. He expected to give that first back at all times, earn the last, and return it if it was deserved.

So now, he knew the feeling he felt with the people glancing their way as they passed them, Axl walking with a beautiful woman in a sexy-as-fuck dress and arguably sexier shoes to a nice restaurant, knowing that woman on his arm was adorable, talented, loyal and a fighter.

That feeling was, he’d earned this.

He’d earned her.

And it felt fucking great.

His life philosophy in action.

Aim high.

And excel.

They went into the restaurant, were seated and given menus.

Hattie ordered BW’s rum-based Butter Beer cocktail (and he totally could have called that, for fuck’s sake, Butter Beer?—fucking adorable). He got the rye-based Edward Henry Masterman.

And the second the server wandered away after they’d ordered, she pressed into him where they sat thigh to thigh at the back of a curved booth, and she whispered in the direction of his ear, “It’s so romantic here.”

He pulled back a couple inches, caught her eyes but said nothing.

Still, she heard him, and he knew it when her lashes dipped, he sensed she was about to pull away, and then she seemed to make a conscious decision not to.

She lifted her gaze to him.

And knowing she’d just beat back the shyness, the instinct to retreat, Axl felt deserved a reward.

So he bent in and fitted his lips tight to hers.

He only touched them with the tip of his tongue before he pulled away.

When he again caught her eyes, her gaze had grown soft and she was now pressing even closer.

“You told me I looked beautiful, I didn’t get to tell you how handsome you look,” she said.

“Thanks, honey,” he replied.

“And just in case I get lost in the fabulous drinks, food, atmosphere and company, and forget to say it later, thank you for bringing me here. Thank you for making this special. Thank you for knowing this is important.”

He thought he knew where that was coming from, after hearing her talk about being a number with that idiot she’d dated, so he shared, “You need to know, when I’m with someone, I’m with them. Boiling that down, I’m a one-woman guy.”