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“Did you abandon your friends?”
“You could say that,” he replied with a blatant note of amusement. “How did you end up here?”
I straightened to my full height, which wasn’t much compared to his, “I’m looking for my sister, actually. Have you seen her?”
“Not recently.”
Did that mean he’d seen her some other time somehow? I wasn’t sure how that would be possible given she was supposed to be laying low and he was the last person she needed to be involved with.
He took a slow, open perusal of my body, going from my head of nearly waist-length dark hair, journeying to the swell of my hips and then down to the heels I was deeply regretting having worn.
It wasn’t sexual, yet I felt something stir. His studious regard was predatory like he was sizing me up. I didn’t feel repulsed by the attention. His eyes swept back towards my face and paused on my lips for three whole seconds before his brilliant blues met my brown.
I wished I knew what he was thinking right then. I held his stare refusing to shrink beneath the weight of it. Just like there were rumors about him and his friends the same went for me and mine. I wasn’t sure which ones he believed or didn’t, but something told me he could easily figure out the truths from the lies.
“Every time I see you, I’m reminded that pictures never do you any justice. Every time,” he repeated quietly.
I faltered at his unexpected compliment. It wasn’t a major phenomenon to see photos of me. Anyone active on social media could but I doubted he found my profiles through our rare pool of mutual friends. Ciaran was two or three years older than me.
He suddenly smiled, showing off teeth so ridiculously perfect that a dentist would weep tears of joy at the sight of them. “I’m not stalking you online.”
“I know…”
“I’m inclined to keep up with the news of the company and sometimes you’re included, although it has been rarer the last few years.”
Of course, that’s how he saw pictures of me. I felt like an idiot for not assuming that was the case straight away.
The reason for me not being pictured alongside my family as of late was because they felt the need to keep me more sheltered than usual from the happenings of our screwed-up little world.
Standing here talking to him was an unexpected turn of events I wouldn’t forget anytime soon. Ciaran was someone I spent more time avoiding than anything. Him approaching me would never be something he'd do out of sheer friendliness or curiosity.
“So, did you come all the way upstairs to tell me I’m pretty?”
“When did I say you were pretty?”
It donned on me then that he’d never said such a word officially. My face heated with embarrassment for possibly the fourth time in my life. It was irritating. I wasn’t a girl who blushed or fluttered her lashes because of a pretty boy.
He grinned and gave a slight shake of his head “I was joking, Liliana.”
“No need to backtrack on my behalf.”
Taking notice of the obvious discomfort I was failing to mask, his smile faded, and he stepped a fraction closer. Fragranced notes of cinnamon and mint danced in the space left between us, his cologne overpowering the scent of my coco butter and Chanel.
“I’m not a person that gives unnecessary flattery. I didn’t call you pretty because the word is too weak of an adjective. You’re much more than that.”
The sincerity in his voice floored me. “Okay, did someone dare you to do this?” I looked around him to see if anyone was lurking nearby.
“I’m beyond the party version of truth or dare,” he replied with a touch of amusement. “I really did want to know why you’re here.”
“I already told—.” I stopped myself short, deciding against mentioning Lamia a second time. “I was invited. Is that okay with you?”
“I’m not in a position to have any say in what you do or don’t do yet.”
“Yet?” I eyed him with slightly narrowed eyes. “Did you by chance do drugs tonight?”
His lips twitched as if he were trying not to laugh. “I thought you liked having my undivided attention.”
The tempo of my heart picked up speed. I made sure to breathe evenly as I replied. “I wasn’t aware that I did.”
“Weren’t you?”
Was he was being playful? I couldn’t get a good enough read on him to say for sure.
I wasn’t prepared to deal with him right now. My cell vibrated against my hip, giving me a valid reason to break the weird connection between us. I opened the new group chat notification and saw Grace had dropped a text with her pinned location.
Found her. Need your help.
Okay, that didn’t exactly warrant any feelings of relief.
What would they need help for? Was Lamia wasted? No, she would never drink while pregnant. Unless… Nope, wasn’t going there. Maybe she was having a moment that required emotional intervention?
