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On the other hand, I order about quadruple what she gets, which she finds amusing.
“You must live in the gym to burn off that many calories,” she says as the waitress leaves.
“I lift,” I reply simply. The truth is that there were only two things I enjoyed doing when I was behind bars – reading books and lifting. There’s nothing more formidable than a sharp mind paired with a powerful body.
Kimberly rests her head in her hands and looks at me with another curious gaze. Her eyes are such a beautiful shade of blue that I feel the need to say something about them, but what can you say to a woman who is perfect? I’m sure she gets compliments all the time.
“So, what’s the plan after this? You need me to drive you anywhere else?” she asks.
“You think I don’t have a car?”
“I’m not making assumptions.”
“You can just go home. I’ll be fine.”
“So… that’s it? Or are you going to ask for my number?”
A grin, breaking the tension before it turns into something more bitter. “I know where you live, darling. I don’t need your number.”
She’s visibly flustered, tucking hair behind her ear that isn’t there and moving around in her seat like someone set it on fire. If she thinks I’m through with her, she has another thing coming.
I’ll be back in her house, and it won’t just be for the treasure underneath the floor.
I have a plan now, and she’s the biggest part of it.
“I’m assuming you moved here for a reason,” I say, diving into a conversation that we need to have if I’m to figure out her schedule. “Work or family?”
“Not family,” she replies with a laugh. There’s a bitterness to it, a little sting that it’s not really all that funny.
Relatable. I hate everyone who I’ve ever shared blood with, aside from my mom.
“So, you work here,” I say, digging deeper. “What exactly do you do?”
She raises her eyebrows. “What do you think I do?”
“Too pretty for an office job,” I say, rubbing the stubble on my chin. “Maybe you’re a model.”
She shoots me a dirty look. “Flattery only gets you so far, buddy.”
“I’m serious.”
She picks at the edge of the table with a manicured nail. French tips. She knows how to take care of herself, which tells me she has standards. Whatever she does, it probably pays well.
“I’m not a model. I was thinking you might be, though,” she says, trying to do what she already warned me against.
I shake my finger at her. “Flattery doesn’t work here either. I’m guessing you work in an office, then. Something nice. I’m sure they have comfortable seats and air conditioning.”
She laughs. “You’re so fucking weird and I feel like you don’t even know it.”
The problem is that I do know it, but there’s nothing I can do about it until I adjust to the outside world again. I’m an alien. A strange man in a world that isn’t built for him.
“Tell me, though, am I right?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah, I’m an accountant. Nothing glamorous, but it pays the bills.”
She has no idea how sexy that is to me, but I don’t allow her to see it. I can’t let her know how obsessed I am with her. She already thinks I’m weird. Any more of my odd behavior and I’m going to scare her off.
Precious girl. I can’t lose her. Not when I’m this close to success.
