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“Yes. I was here with them.”
Her eyes flashed lightning.
“Not with them,” I corrected.
She shrugged and looked away.
I smiled internally. “At the same time as them. I assure you, not one of them received the same treatment you just did.”
“Ah,” she nodded as understanding dawned. “He thinks I’m more attainable.”
My hand holding my glass paused midway between the table and my mouth. “Are you serious?”
“What?” She gave her head a shake. “They’re models.”
I took a sip, my black eyes steady on her bright blue ones. “And you’re you. There are fourteen of them, only one of you.”
She smiled.
Right at me.
That feeling of suffocation sat heavy on my chest. I looked away, the relief of breathing easy almost immediately interrupted by the craving to burrow back under the weight of her approval.
“Thank you. I think that’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received.”
“You’re obviously not hanging out with the right people.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Do you have a lot of friends?”
“Friends?” Did I have friends? No. I had women. Casual arrangements. We shared a meal, a bed, a good time. Until the next time.
“Yeah, friends. Is it that foreign of a concept?” She teased.
I smiled lazily. “I have friends.”
Her face reddened, and she hissed, “I didn’t mean those kinds of friends.”
She shifted her chair back to leave.
I grasped the arm of the chair to halt her progress. “Hope. I’m sorry. I’m not good at sharing personal information. That was targeted to piss you off and get you off topic.”
Her chest heaved.
My heart ached. I wanted to cover her. Shield her. Out there in the world with her beautiful, vulnerable, heart. She needed a poker face.
And if her reaction was true to her feelings for me, she needed to make better fucking decisions.
I should have walked away.
But I didn’t.
“Let’s talk about you. Tell me who is important in your life.”
She slowly lowered herself back into her seat, her gaze flicking back and forth between me and the table. Her indecision rankled me though I caused it. When she settled back into her chair, my chest flooded with relief even as I mentally urged her to run.
The bartender slid her meal in front of her, and she offered him a wan smile as she thanked him.
I did that.
