One #2
She scoffed. “And I gave you plenty in return. Where am I to go? Hmm?” She poked her finger into her date’s chest, her courage mesmerizing as she crowded the giant. “My mother’s? No. You know she is flying to Budapest in a few days.”
“What was I supposed to do, put my life on hold until your family got their shit together?” the man argued, shoving her sharp-nailed finger away from his chest. “Nadia, we had fun, but this was never meant to be permanent.”
She went completely still. Elliot craned his neck to better see her expression and his blood chilled. That look… It was not kind.
A threatening glint filled her eyes. “Oh, I did not realize my being your lover was holding you up from other endeavors. And what might you be planning, Ian? Is it blonde or red-headed?”
Ian shuffled back a step but she continued to crowd him. A lioness closing in on her prey.
“I. Am. Not. A. Fool.” The sharp knife of her fingernail jabbed into his chest again, punctuating her words.
“You go. You run away, coward. I do not want to be with a man who trembles at the thought of a future. You are a weak little boy, running away. And I am too much woman for you, little man. Go.”
Ian snatched her hand on the last jab, his grip noticeably firm around her dainty fingers. “Poke me again,” he growled, eyes threatening.
She yanked her hand out of his grasp and stabbed her finger in his chest. “Or what? You’ll throw me out? Ha! Too late.”
His somewhat tolerant expression transformed with hostility as his hands flew out, jerking her narrow shoulders hard.
“This is why I’m done! No sensible man would put up with this shit.
You were never supposed to be more than a fuck!
You’re an uneducated, glorified stripper, mistaking trashy clothes for sophistication and class.
Champagne taste on a beer budget. Be grateful it lasted as long as it did.
” He released her with a push. “You’re not worth it. ”
“Get away from me.” She took a staggering step back and Elliot noted her hurt, the shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes.
“Gladly! You have until Friday morning to get your shit out of my place.”
Her lips remained tight as he stormed away, leaving her on the dark, vacant sidewalk, all alone. Elliot’s heart pounded against his ribs. She didn’t burst into tears or even turn to watch him go, she just stood there.
He backed into the shadows and considered his options. Long ago, he’d learned not to interfere in other people’s business. It never ended well. But the threat of the other man was gone, leaving only Nadia, and he couldn’t leave her there alone like that, could he?
His attention returned to her. Her posture wilted as she lowered her head.
Where did that man expect her to go? This was why people were better off living unattached lives.
Or at least taking the time for formalities like renter’s insurance and cohabitating lease agreements.
Regardless, codependent relationships were always dangerous.
He should see if she needed anything. Chances were she wouldn’t even remember him, being that the second time they’d met, at his friend’s wedding, he lacked the balls to even say hello. She wouldn’t remember him.
Still … she might be stranded. Offering help would be the chivalrous thing to do…
Drawing in a deep breath, he wiped his clammy palms down the side of his slacks, adjusting his glasses and straightening his tie. He could do this.
Stepping out of the shadows, strangely aware of how loud and jagged each breath left his lungs, he pushed the door only to collide with the handle when it didn’t budge. Nadia’s attention jerked to the glass. Damn one-way entrances.
He pulled it open and cleared his throat. Their gazes held for an infinitesimal second that had enough longevity to somehow lift every hair on his body.
His skin chilled as his chest warmed. Mouth dry, his lips moved over the silent shape of her name and he cleared his throat again.
“Na … dia,” his nerves butchered her beautiful name.
She frowned at him, no sense of recognition in her expression.
He wanted to disappear, but he couldn’t move, so he tried again, voice shrinking to a whisper. “Hello, Nadia.”
Her head tilted as if trying to place him. The breeze caught her mysterious scent and his body reflexively stiffened.
“Do I know you?”
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he tried to disguise the inappropriate reaction her nearness was having on him. “I’m … Asher Roan’s friend, Elliot.”
She snapped her fingers and clicked her tongue, startling him. “Yes, Elliot Garnet. You were in my dance class when Asher started taking lessons.”
He nodded, shoving away the obstinate memory of the torture he’d endured for his best friend’s sex life. As far as first impressions went, that had been the worst.
Change the subject.
“Are … are you okay?”
Her entire demeanor softened as she offered a comprehending sigh, obviously understanding he’d witnessed the argument. “I…” Her throaty laugh sent chills dancing over his spine. “No. No, I’m not okay.”
This is your chance. “Do you need a ride somewhere?”
It was late and he couldn’t just leave her stranded. Despite her impressive boldness, she was clearly shaken. Even the strongest creatures had their own personal kryptonite.
She smiled, her full lips unveiling pearl white teeth. That mouth. He swallowed thickly and tried to draw his body away from the constricting material of his pants.
“Aren’t you sweet.” Glancing away, she seemed to consider her options. When her gaze flicked back to him, her dark eyes stole his breath. “Would you like to grab a drink with me, Elliot?”
Surmising home was the last place she’d want to go, he quickly measured the probability of humiliation versus fantasy.
If he let her do most of the talking he could probably keep his presence neutral, at least get to sit close to her for a minute or two.
The slithering sense of social suicide snaking through him was slightly overshadowed by the gains.
He might even learn a thing or two about her.
“Sure. I could do that.”
The moment he agreed his heart murmured and he sucked in a strained breath, a prerequisite to what usually ended with him breathing into a paper bag. He forced himself to remain calm. He was getting a chance to talk to Nadia. Nadia.
Her brown eyes lit as her smile showed genuine relief. “There’s a little place around the corner. Walk with me?”
Unable to find his voice, he nodded, falling into step beside her. She was tall, matching his height within a centimeter, but she also wore heels.
He kept his focus on the pavement ahead despite her distracting presence. He was walking with Nadia. They were going to grab a drink.
Hardly a fan of alcohol, he rarely patronized bars.
His mind was suddenly preoccupied with feasible drink orders.
What would be palatable yet manly? The thought of bitter beer turned his stomach and wine usually gave him a headache.
Perhaps the effect would be minimized if he ordered something with seltzer or club soda? What did people generally mix with—
“You do not talk much, do you?”
His gaze jerked to her and back to the pavement as they rounded the corner. The lit awning of what he assumed was their destination hung at the end of the block.
“Not unless I have something to say.” He mentally grappled with topics of conversation, knowing people generally took his reserve as rudeness, which it wasn’t.
She nodded, the soft click of her heels tapping a delicate pattern on the footpath. “I didn’t realize anyone was watching me. I’m not sure how much you overheard.”
Though he didn’t want to intrude, he needed to talk, so he went with what he witnessed. “Was that your boyfriend?”
“No.”
He frowned. “I thought…” He let the comment drift away, accepting her relationship with her dinner companion was none of his business. Maybe they could find something else in common to discuss. Not likely.
“He was my lover.”
Blurred eroticism flashed through his mind saturated in Nadia’s essence but too far out of reach to depict clearly.
Breath weighed heavily in his lungs taking so much space he had to concentrate on exhaling.
He hadn’t realized there was a distinction between the two terms but suddenly hated his logical mind for immediately noting the difference. “I see.”
She shook her head, laughing quietly. “I was foolish to assume he was anything more than cold company. It’s probably best we ended things.”
Slowing her steps, she approached the entrance of the pub and he shifted in front of her to grab the door before she had a chance to touch it. She smiled as he stepped aside to let her enter first.
“Thank you.”
The tavern was dim, lit by accent lights and votive candles distributed on each table. A few men sat at the bar, focused on a sports game playing on all three flat screens while a couple dined in the far corner. Following her lead, they settled in at a tall bistro table by the front window.
“Do you mind the window? I like looking at the street lights and people going by.”
“That’s fine.” He liked looking at her and was still processing the anomaly he’d be able to do so for however long people typically grabbed drinks.
She scooted onto the tall stool, her long legs crossing gracefully at the knee. Throat parched, he swallowed and took the chair across from her.
She tucked her purse beside the standing menu and rested her elbows on the table, folding one arm elegantly over the other. Realizing he still wore his shoulder bag, he lifted it and hung it from the back of his chair. When he faced her she smiled and he stilled. Was he supposed to do something?
Say something. Talk about the weather. “Summer seems to be dying down.” Could there be a more hollow topic?
“I like your glasses.”
He blinked trying to recall which pair he wore and alarmed she was looking close enough to notice he wore glasses at all. “Thank you.”
“I used to have a pair like that, but they broke.”