I force my eyes open and look at the bar.
The napkin.
It’s still there.
White. Innocent. Waiting.
Fuck my life.
I tilt my head back and stare at the ceiling.
One one thousand. Two one thousand. Three. Four.
I roll my shoulders.
Breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth.
Blink back the tears I swore I wouldn’t let fall.
Then I count out the number eleven and look back at the bar.
The napkin is still there.
But he’s not.
He’s gone.
My fingers fidget and flex.
Don’t do it.
I’m antsy. Agitated.
Do not do it.
I shift my weight, one hip to the other.
I’d love to dance with you, Alex.
Nrghhh!
I glance over my shoulder and see Elijah weaving his way back. His dark eyes are bright, happy, aimed directly at me.
He smiles.
Fucking smiles.
And it lights up his whole face.
His skin is damp, like he splashed water over his face and ran wet fingers through his hair. The effect is stunning.
Super sexy.
Latino-licious.
I return the smile and pivot back to the bar, back to the napkin, back to temptation.
I bite down on my knuckles.Hard.
