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As she wipes her hands on her napkin, I ask her, “What is it that you want from me, Addison?” My hands clench under the table as I wait. I know exactly what I want from her. To fuck her out of my system. To be done with an obsession from long ago.
She shoots me a sweet, genuine smile and the blush grows hotter on her face. “I think it’s the alcohol talking.”
Her smile is addictive and I feel my own lips twitch up into a lopsided grin. “Why’s that?”
“Because I want to tell you I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.”
I feel myself swallow. I feel everything in this moment. Watching her blush and smile at me like that, I want more of it. I don’t know if it’s the vodka, the tequila or the wine. Maybe a combination of the three. But whatever’s making her blush, she needs more of it.
My heart beats rapidly and my cock hardens to the point where it’s nearly unbearable.
As she covers her face with her hands, the waiter walks by casually and I reach out, fisting his shirt and stopping him in his tracks.
The look on his face is a mix of shock and fear. But I’m quick to loosen my grip and tell him, “More shots.”
CHAPTER11
Addison
When I’m drunk, I have some odd thoughts. Some do make sense. For instance, how many shots did we have? That one seems like a logical thought, and I’m not sure of the exact answer, but at least three. Which is probably three too many but with how tense and awkward I was at the start of dinner, maybe three was just the right number.
Also, what happened to my car? I should be concerned about that. But I’m drunk, so walking seems smart. I keep my feet moving, one after the other even though I sway slightly. Only slightly though.
The thought that matters the most and the one I keep coming back to is whether or not Daniel can see how my hands keep trembling.
I’m sure the heat in my cheeks is obvious. And the butterflies in my stomach aren’t staying where they ought to. They fly up and mess with my heart. Fluttering wildly and with an anxiousness that makes it feel like they’re caged and trying to escape.
Maybe it’s normal for what I’m doing.
When you want to kiss someone who’s obviously a dick, it makes sense that your body would feel anxious and like you should run, right? Not to mention I’m sure he’s still dealing. When your family’s business is crime, you don’t exactly walk away from that life. This heated nervousness won’t leave me. I can’t stop fidgeting with my hands and I’m sure it’s ridiculous, but what else could be expected of me?
And then there’s the fact that he’s my ex’s brother. An ex who’s gone. And in many ways, it’s because of me. It should make me feel worse than I do. But in a lot of ways, it feels the same way as running has. Only this time, I’m running to Daniel. A man I’ve dreamed for so long would comfort me and tell me these feelings were alright.
Obviously, that never happened. And I’m not sure it ever will.
There’s a part of my mind that won’t stop picking at that fact. A part that wonders how Daniel can even stand to be around me. A part that wonders if he’s only toying with me. Like he’s waiting to get his revenge and tell me how he truly feels.
And that’s the part that scares me when I look up at him. I don’t care how many times he’ll tell me that no one blames me. How could they not?
I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m too afraid to stop, because I really want to find out. I’m too eager to finally know what it feels like to be wanted by him.
“You’re so nervous,” he says as if he’s amused.
“Aren’t you?”
His smile dims and he runs his hand through his hair, looking to his left at the stop sign. “Let’s go to my place.”
We’re standing on the corner of Church and Fifth and I know I just need to go six blocks and I’ll be two streets over from my apartment building … I think. There are bus stops everywhere in this college town. So even if I get lost, I could find my way back home by just hopping on a bus.
“Your place?” I question him while squinting at the signs. I’m more than a little tipsy. But everything feels so good.
“Let’s go,” he answers and then takes my hand in his, pulling me across the street even though the sign at the crosswalk is still red.
“Still a rule breaker,” I tease and I think that one is from the alcohol. I must find it funnier than he does though, because once we’re on the other side, I’m the one smiling at my little joke while he stands there. Staring at me like he’s not sure what to do with me.
“So you aren’t nervous?” I ask him, daring to broach the subject again. I don’t mind what he does to me. I crave it. And I’ll be damned if he tells me he doesn’t want me. I can see it in his eyes.
But what exactly he wants me for? That I have yet to know for sure.
