Isabella is scratching her arm when I look back at her. A nervous tic, perhaps?
“If I agree, would you be jealous?”
She smirks at this. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you’ve fucked her against a mirror as well.”
My grip tightens around the stem of my glass. I raise it to my mouth to buy myself time.
I don’t know exactly what it is that makes me hesitate. A gut feeling, perhaps. But that split second is enough time for Isabella’s gaze to dart to my glass.
With one tiny glance, the entire setup is revealed to me. The dress, the flirting, the distraction.
Whatever now resides in my glass is something she is very anxious for me to consume.
I swirl the liquid around some, pretending to be lost in thought, before placing it back down. “You’re the only person I’ve even thought about in weeks.”
My confession seems to alarm her. Good.
“Then why did you stop following me?”
The question is far more vulnerable than the last.
“Perhaps I needed to let you go. Perhaps whatever this is between us is too dangerous to remain unchecked.”
Her chocolate eyes find the tablecloth, and her blonde hair cascades over her shoulder. “So this is done then, is it?”
I consider her for a moment. “Why are you here,belle?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I missed you?”
“You never had me.”
“Didn’t I?”
Yes, you did.
Instead, I lean back in my chair and let my eyes drift back to the stage. Danny starts up a new melody, and I pretend I’menraptured, just like everyone else. As if she even holds a candle to the woman in front of me.
“Her hair is shorter,” I comment mildly, “and she wouldn’t be able to pull off your dress.”
I take the opportunity the second Isabella turns around to look at the stage for herself. All it takes is a quick nudge, and I’ve swapped our glasses before she can turn around again.
She raises a pleased eyebrow at me as she reaches for what she believes to be her glass and takes a long drink.
The remaining glass must be safe, then. I raise it to her before taking a drink.
I swear her eyes never leave the liquid. They pause at my mouth long enough for me to swallow, before glancing down at the bob of my throat. Her tongue pokes out of her mouth, seemingly involuntarily.
“See something you like?” I ask sweetly.
She leans back in her seat, suddenly much more relaxed. “As a matter of fact…” Her eyes rake over my body unashamedly.
“There are too many eyes in here,” I warn her.
“A pity,” her confidence returns in full force. “I was hoping you might indulge some of the fantasies I’ve been having.”
