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Case and point, he's dangerous.
"Two points?"he asks again in disbelief.
I'm not sure how we got on the topic of my IQ, but here we are. The bar is practically empty at this time of night. We've shared a plate of nachos, and each had a burger, both unhealthy food I don’t normally enjoy; not that I protested either. And we're discussing the depth of my intelligence.
Or lack thereof, depending on how you look at it.
"Yes. Can we change the subject now?" I'm not uncomfortable talking about it, but I also don't like to be the center of attention. "I have a few ideas already on how to improve the recipes. Not that they're bad, but you know. To make them healthier. Sometimes it's just a matter of portion size. Sometimes it's the cooking process. But mostly, it's the little ingredients that will make a big difference."
"Have you ever thought about taking the test again? You know, to see if the score would change?"
Julian's leaning across the small, circular, table, waiting for my answer. Apparently, he's not giving up on this yet.
"It sounds stupid, but I've opted not to." There. That should satisfy him.
"Why?"
"For instance," I start, attempting to deter his fascination with this topic, "if you were to change the oil you use at the sauté station to extra virgin olive oil instead of canola oil, it would make a huge impact. I know it's a little pricier, but you can't really put a value on your health. And think about the flavor profile."
"Answer me, Piper. And be honest."
So much for deterring him.
"Fine. What if it was a fluke? What if my score drops ten points? Twenty? I'd rather not press my luck. Plus, no one really cares what your IQ is. And I'm sure the tests are slightly flawed anyway."
It's the truth. Would I like to retake it and prove I'm a genius? Hell yes. Am I also scared that my score would tank, and I've been living a lie the last four years since my parents had me tested? More than anything.
"You're right. No one cares if you're a genius." Julian takes a sip of his water and leans back in his chair. It's clear he has more to say, but he's pausing for dramatic effect. "Except you."
There it is.
"Maybe you're right. Now, can we talk about my ideas? I have a few more I'd like to run past you before I start putting pen to paper and writing my suggestions. Once I do that, we can start testing my theories which will be the fun part for you."
"If you want, but I kind of like talking about how smart you are. It means I'm smart too."
"How do you figure?"
"I chose you as my tutor, remember? Smart decision on my part."
"Yes, Julian, you're a genius." My reply is dramatic as I wave my hands in the air and bow my head at him.
"I like the way that sounds." His chuckle sends a shot of adrenaline straight through me, and I find myself complimenting him again.
"You're the entire package. Talented. Gorgeous. Smart. How could any woman resist your charm?"
Julian's laugh gets caught in his throat, causing him to cough. Watching as he takes a sip of his water, I can feel my cheeks heat as I watch his Adam's apple bob up and down.
"You tell me," he finally says. When my eyes flick to his, I find him staring at me. Waiting. His usually mocha-colored eyes are now a shade of black that matches his hair.
Looking away, my eyes fall to his chest. His t-shirt is hugging him in all the right places, stretching to accommodate his broad shoulders.
My eyes continue to admire the view, taking in the tattoos that cover his right arm.
And that's only what I can see above the tabletop. If he were to stand, I'd find his shirt tapers to his waist and that his jeans look like they were made just to accentuate his ass.
Which is why I've tried to avoid looking at him all night. It wasn't hard while we were working. I was focused on the sauté station. He let me run it solo tonight, only helping when I asked for assistance.
Now that we're alone, I'm losing the internal battle I've been having with myself for years. Because Julian Chambers has the body of a god, and I have no doubt what's under the clothes is just as breathtaking.
