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“Do you like when I look at you?” he asks, beckoning me out into the light with him. “I won’t think differently of you if you do. Beautiful women should be appreciated.”
“And you’re walking around the city, taking on the back-breaking labor of it?” I tease, fighting my grin.
“Someone must,” he answers with a shrug as we turn to step in time.
I don’t know where we’re walking but I do know it’s the direction of the apartment I share with Miley. Would I invite him back there?
You don’t even know his name,a small part of me thinks. But what’s a name when this man looks like he stepped out of my dreams?
No, more like my fantasies. The kind where I end up naked.
“What’s your name?” I finally ask him, deciding I should at least know that before I think about getting naked with him. But he shakes his head, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I believe I askedyoua question first,” he reminds me, tilting his head toward me. I grin, even though I warm at the honest answer I thought I’d successfully evaded having to share.
“What woman doesn’t like being looked at by an attractive man?” I ask the sky, my face turned toward the stars as I answer.
He shakes his head with his own secret smile just as I hear the chime of a ringtone.
When I glance down at my cell, I see Miley’s name on my screen. I let it go to voicemail and just as I’m about to speak again, her name pops up again.
With my brows furrowed and my lips parted, I’m torn between what I should do and what I want to do.
“It seems important,” he starts as he begins to step away from me. One foot behind the other, he makes it impossible to think rationally. “Answer it.”
“Uh…” I stare at my phone and then back at him. “Give me just a second.”
I swipe the screen, answering the call. Miley is babbling in the background, and I hear someone saying my name.
“Miley?” I ask into the phone, trying to simultaneously keep my eye on the man currently escaping. “Don’t you want my name? My number or something?” I ask him as I pull the phone from my ear.
“Come on. We’re the last romantics in this fucking city,” he shouts as he keeps walking, his arms outstretched. “We’re either destined or doomed to meet again.”
The person on the other end of the phone tells me to come pick up my drunk best friend, and I watch him walk away, wondering how I still managed to evade getting laid tonight.
