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34. Zen and Hunger
Rielle had on a skin-tight pair of jeans, a fitted shirt, a lightweight jacket and boots. Jake approved. Clothing appropriate for riding pillion. Clothing that showed off her athletic curves and highlighted her obvious attractions. She walked across the car park and straight into his arms. Close up he could see she wore more natural tone makeup. She’d dressed down, taken the green pieces out of her hair for their date, if that’s what this was. He shook his head to clear it; he wasn’t going to analyse this. If there was any time to be Zen and live in the moment this was it.
She said, “Hi,” standing on tiptoe to bring her face closer to his.
“Hi.” He dived straight into her violet eyes and swam in their velvet.
“You smell nice, like fresh cut wood, cinnamon—hmm,” she purred, “shame to waste it on the night air.”
“There’s more in the bottle.”
“And the bottle would be in your room?”
He laughed at the way her lifted brow punctuated the innuendo. “Yeah, that’s where it would be.”
“Maybe we can visit it later?”
“Maybe we can.” If she made one more mention of his room, later would functionally happen in th
e five minutes it would take to recross the car park, commandeer a lift and crash through his door. But he wasn’t ready for later; later was still a problem. There might never be a later, only a now. She was a rock star. He was a roadie. This was never going to go anywhere real.
Rielle saw the hesitation in Jake’s eyes and knew it was entirely her fault. She’d started this game, made it a challenge and the harder she played, the more Jake distrusted the outcome. That was the irony, the deeper she was falling, the more he walled up his emotions to keep his distance.
Why couldn’t this be simpler? Why couldn’t this be like Rand and Harry? Watching them together made her heart flap little wings. The way they looked at each other—like they could see past skin, the subtle touches and gestures designed only for each other. The back of Rand’s hand against Harry’s cheek when they didn’t think anyone was looking; the slide of Harry’s knee against Rand’s thigh when they sat together; and more critically, the way they left themselves wide open to each other. They weren’t playing a game. They were building their own world. Karma. Rand deserves his happiness. He’d long ago earned it. She was still behind on points in life. Always would be.
“You ready to ride, Jake?”
He curled his hand around hers. “You hungry?”
“It’s almost the same question.” She bent her knee and traced it up the side of his leg.
He caught it, wrapped his hand underneath her thigh and dragged her closer to him. “What’s the answer?”
“You first.”
“I’m ready to take you anywhere you want to go.” He hesitated; a more confident man would’ve said, “so long as it includes you naked in my bed”. He finished with, “on my bike.”
She laughed. He must’ve have known she was looking for another answer. “Chicken.”
A smile played across his face. “So, you are hungry.”
“Oh yeah,” she said, “hungrier than I’ve ever been before.”
Their first stop was a restaurant in suburban Albert Park that was quiet, relaxed, with excellent food and discrete service he arranged in advance. Rielle was barely aware of anyone else in the room but Jake. They started out sitting opposite each other, shared antipasto, a dry white wine, and a conversation that after all the flirting and teasing was suddenly awkward, halting and stilted. Just like a first date; just like they hardly knew each other. There was so much she lightly, flippantly steered away from: childhood, family and the future, and he let her. They were both riding the wavelength of now, knowing it wouldn’t take much to tip them off and send them hurtling back to someplace before they were so enchanted with each other.
She had fish, he had steak. They shared vegetables and bites from each other’s plates. Then over coffee, she moved her chair adjacent to his, put her hand on his thigh, rubbed her fingers against the inside seam of his jeans.
“What are you doing, wolf-woman?”
She stopped, blinked at him and lifted her hand. He captured it and placed it back down on his thigh, holding it there. “I didn’t say I wanted you to stop. I’m just interested in your logic. Do you think if you seduce me here at dinner, I’ll forget you’re a crappy conversationalist?”
“I didn’t think we were about conversation; I thought we were more about doing other things with our tongues.”
“Ah, you see right there.” He sighed. “Right there, is my problem, Rie. You bring me so close, then you slam the door and you expect me not to care about what’s behind it.”
She looked away. “You won’t like what’s behind it, Jake.”
“You’re not giving me the chance to find out.”
