At least for me.
I didn’t think that Davide or Elijah noticed my discomfort, but I discovered I was wrong after we ordered appetizers. Davide and I ordered mojitos as we usually did, but Elijah ordered a beer. Once the drinks arrived, Davide saw a new acquaintance, one he was attracted to, and winked at me before he scooped up his mojito and sauntered over to the man at the bar, leaving me alone with Elijah.
I desperately wanted to get up and go hide in the ladies’ room while Davide flirted with his latest crush, but I was a grown woman, dammit. I could sit here and talk to a man who’d given me mind-melting orgasms during a one-night stand. Before Chris and Lucy’s wedding, I’d enjoyed talking to Elijah the times we had a chance for casual conversation. There was no reason I couldn’t do it again.
I sipped the mojito in my hand before I turned to Elijah, jumping a little when I realized how close he’d gotten. Davide insisted on sitting in a circular booth in the corner, saying that we would be able to hear each other better if we were all sitting close together. Which didn’t matter at all considering my new boss was off trying to hook up. Now, Elijah was in my space, his face only a few inches away. And he was watching me closely with those piercing blue eyes.
“How have you been, Brown Eyes?” he asked, his shoulder brushing mine.
Holy shit, why was it so hot in here?
I knew my cheeks were pink as I swallowed more of my cocktail. “I’ve been good. Excited to change jobs. How about you?”
“I’m good. Better tonight than this morning.” He smirked as he lifted the beer bottle to his mouth.
I shot him a skeptical side eye, the awkwardness slowly draining from me. He was so cocky. “Maybe I should go. I’m not sure there’s enough room for me and your ego in this booth.”
He chuckled, setting the beer bottle on the table with a quiet thunk without looking away from my face. “You won’t leave, Brown Eyes. You’re too nice to stomp off in a huff.”
I cocked my head to the side at the skepticism in his tone. “You don’t think I would?”
“You’re as sweet as cotton candy, Grier.” His eyes wandered over my lips and down my body before he lifted his gaze back to mine. “Everywhere.”
Okay, it wasn’t just hot in here. It was a damn sauna. The hot flush returned to my face and worked its way down my neck and chest. I had to diffuse this situation, and I had to do it now, before I did something stupid—like stick my tongue in his mouth.
“Listen, Eli. You don’t know me all that well. When we see each other, I’m with my friends, people I like and trust. The part of me that would bitch out annoying men is dormant then.”
His smirk erupted into a full-fledged laugh, making his eyes twinkle. “I see. Consider me put in my place.”
My blush was just beginning to fade when he asked, “Have you thought about me when you touched yourself after that night?”
I nearly choked on the mojito I’d just lifted to my lips. Sputtering and coughing, I set the glass on the table with a sharp crack. “Are you trying to kill me?” I finally asked, wheezing a little.
“Not really,” he replied, obviously chagrined. “I wanted to throw you a little off balance, not send you to the hospital.”
“Well, maybe don’t wait until I’m taking a sip of my drink the next time you want to drop a conversational grenade on me,” I snarked back, picking up one of the napkins on the table to wipe my face and then sop up the small puddle of liquid I’d left on the table.
“Good point,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
With a sigh, I tossed the damp napkin toward the edge of the table and glanced over at him. “Apology accepted. This time.”
His smirk returned. “Are you saying it’s my one free pass?”
Arching a brow, I answered, “Yes, I am.”
Once again, his secretive smile turned into a laugh. “It’s good to know that you speak your mind even if we’re not drinking tequila, Brown Eyes.”
“Since I’m speaking my mind, why did you ask me such a provocative question?” I asked. I leaned an elbow on the table and rested my head on my palm as I turned toward him. “I thought we agreed to leave our night in the past.”
His jaw flexed as he studied me. “You are direct, aren’t you? I don’t remember that from?—”
While I was always honest, I typically tried to temper it with kindness. Tonight, my non-confrontational tendencies seemed to have deserted me. Probably due to stress and horniness. “Not. Talking. About. It. Remember?”
He smirked but raised an eyebrow as if waiting for me to respond anyway.
I shrugged one shoulder. “Hi, pot. My name is kettle.” When he chuckled, I continued, “Clear communication is important to me but I try to do it with kindness and compassion.”
“Sounds like there’s a story there.”
