Chapter 2 #2
I stop in front of his table and give him a pained smile.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hello,” the guy replies.
“Elias.” I point to myself.
“Simon.” He takes a sip of his drink and eyes me, sweeping his gaze up and down me. I just realized that I never asked Aspen what this dude’s name was, seeing that I spent most of the phone call angry. Turns out it’s Simon. Okay, then.
I can feel nerves gathering in my belly, but I practiced what I want to say for a long time outside.
I take a deep breath.
Don’t. Ramble.
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
Good start so far.
“Here’s the thing. I’m really sorry I have to do this to you. You’ve obviously taken time out of your evening to be here, and I appreciate it, but this date is not going to happen.”
And now wish him a good night and get lost.
“It’s got nothing to do with you,” I blurt.
“I’m sure you’re a lovely person, so it’s really nothing personal.
I’m just not in a place to date anybody right now.
See, I just went through a breakup. Well, not a breakup per se.
It’s more that he cheated on me. And maybe that wouldn’t have affected me that much, but see, I walked in on them mid-thrust. I’m talking dicks out, full-frontal nudity.
Or more like one dick out. The other was decidedly in.
” I make a face at the memory and then meet Simon’s eyes again.
His wide eyes. Yeah. I do that to people sometimes by accident—go off on a tangent and inadvertently force them to listen to me.
“Think of it like this,” I say, trying to get this train back on track.
“There are plenty of fish in the sea. I’m going to be honest with you, I’m really not worth the hassle, so you’re much better off going back to that app and finding another person to date.
Find yourself something real. I’m basically only down for a hookup at best. Some totally uncomplicated, no-strings-attached fucking. Just two sweaty bodies, no promises.”
I’ve said it all in one breath, so by the time I’m done I’m all out of breath.
“What?”
It’s a valid question, but it doesn’t seem to come from the guy in front of me but rather from behind me. Also, it’s a woman’s voice.
I whirl around. There’s a woman standing behind me, looking terribly upset.
“Simon?” she says. “What is he talking about?”
“I… I’m not sure, honey.”
“Not sure?” she says, slowly and threateningly, taking a step closer.
“Baby! I’ve never seen this guy before in my life,” he protests. “He’s just some random dude. He approached me! Out of the blue.”
She sniffs and angrily dashes at her eyes. “You know, my whole family said I was crazy for taking you back after that whole Chloe situation. I didn’t believe them. I chose to give you another chance. And this is how you repay me.”
“Baby,” Simon says.
“Don’t baby me,” his date snaps.
I watch the altercation with wide eyes.
“Umm…” I say slowly. “This might be a bit of a misunderstanding.”
The woman has grabbed Simon’s drink and is aiming it for a throw.
“Baby,” Simon says. “Baby, this is a Brioni.” He motions to his suit.
“You can stuff your Brioni up. Your. Ass,” she yells. He backs away. She follows. The hostess is here. The waiters are gathering.
I look around with wide eyes.
“I’d step out of the line of fire if I were you,” a low voice says from behind me. I jerk my head around, and my gaze lands on a man.
A man with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. He’s really tall, too. You could almost say he’s a gia—
Okay, yeah, so he’s a giant for sure, but that fact is eclipsed by something else.
I know this guy.
I know him. I definitely fucking know him. Specifically, from the time he was kneeling behind my boyfriend, plowing into him when I walked into the bedroom.
My eyes widen, my heart goes into a sickening gallop, and my whole body goes hot and cold all at once. I can’t seem to move or say anything at all.
“Elias,” he says. He doesn’t ask. It’s more like he’s stating a fact to me. He’s not wrong.
And… I don’t know if I should be insulted or not, but absolutely nothing about his demeanor and the way he talks to me gives even the slightest hint that he recognizes me at all.
“Yes?” I manage to say. Or squeak.
I hate myself for being like this.
“Raf.” His voice is a low rumble that vibrates through my chest. My eyes travel over the colorful tattoos that cover his arms and disappear below his shirtsleeves.
His broad shoulders stretch the white T-shirt and the leather jacket thrown over it.
His long legs are encased in a pair of jeans, and he’s wearing a pair of scuffed leather boots.
I feel numb. Not at all in the proper mindset to confront anybody. And can I even blame him? It’s not like he knew Chris was in a relationship.
I am pretty annoyed that he doesn’t at least recognize me, though.
Does that mean he ends up in that kind of situation often?
Maybe for me it was the shock of a lifetime, but for him it was just a regular Tuesday?
Maybe I’m just one of the many disgruntled ex-boyfriends he encounters on his journey.
Maybe I really am just that nondescript of a person that I don’t make any impression at all.
Yeah.
This is great.
Or maybe it’s just that this guy is clearly so far out of my league that we’re not even playing on the same field.
“Hi,” I say because it feels like it’s my turn to say something, and that’s the only thing that comes to mind.
“Hi,” he replies calmly. He’s impossible to read, and that stoic attitude coupled with the fact that he’s ridiculously hot makes me feel even more out of my depth than I usually feel.
Especially when I expected him to be flustered.
Okay, technically, it might not be his fault Chris used him to cheat on me, but I’d wager most people would have at least some kind of feelings about that.
I swallow through the dryness in my throat and ignore the way my body goes all hot the longer I look at him.
“I…” I say.
“No need to recite the speech again. I already heard all the important points.”
He looks annoyed with me, and it puts me even more off balance. I’m the one who’s supposed to be indignant here.
“Oh,” I say.
Say something. Ask him if he remembers you. At least get the upper hand.
A glassful of champagne flies straight into my face and makes me sputter and cough from surprise.
I blink and swipe over my eyes.
“That’s what you get for going after my man,” Simon’s date screeches at me.
I probably deserved that.
“Yeah,” I say. “Okay. That’s… fine. It really was just an honest mistake.”
She huffs at me and storms out.
Simon straightens his tie and wipes a crumb off his suit.
“Just in case it needs reiterating, I’m not down for a date either. Everything else you said, I’m very interested in, though. So how about it? You. Me. Your place?”
“No?” I say slowly. “That’s not…” I shake my head.
He shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
He strolls out of the restaurant, leaving me standing there with Raf.
He eyes me silently, his cool gaze taking me in with an intensity that makes me feel naked.
“Have a good evening,” he says.
Say. Something!
“You, too,” I call after him.
Good job, Eli. You showed him.
I make my escape. On my way to the elevators, I stop by the bathroom and wash the sticky remnants of the champagne off my face. The collar of my shirt is uncomfortably damp, but I can’t do anything about that right now.
I wash my hands and dry them before I grip the edge of the sink and look at my own reflection in the mirror.
Green eyes that have a wary look in them.
Light brown hair that’s once again getting slightly too long.
I’ve been blessed with the kind of fast metabolism that doesn’t care that I survive on takeout and am a regular client of any vending machines I can find.
I don’t have the kind of body that suggests I’ve ever stepped foot in a gym, but I have the wiry build of a runner that comes courtesy of stuffing my feet into a pair of sneakers and making a loop around the park near my house every now and then.
In short, nothing to write home about.
Yeah.
Why would he remember me anyway? I’m a dime a dozen.
I step out of the bathroom and head to the elevators. I have to wait for a bit for one to arrive, so I get to inhale all the delicious smells coming from the restaurant. Maybe I should’ve ordered dinner to go? I’ve barely eaten today, so my stomach immediately starts to rumble.
Then again, after the scandal I just caused, it’s safe to say I will never show my face in there again.
I sigh and step into the elevator. Not a problem. The kebab joint down the street from my place will do the trick just as nicely.
The elevator doors are just about to close when a hand appears between them, and the doors slide open once again.
I let out a silent sigh and glance toward the ceiling in frustration. I really, really just want to go home.
I get a quick glimpse of a tattooed forearm, and then I can’t seem to breathe at all anymore.
Really?
Really?
Fucking hell, this day just keeps getting worse and worse.
The only way to tell Raf is at least a little surprised at seeing me is the minuscule tilt of his head before he calmly steps into the elevator.
He settles in next to me, and since he’s so big, there’s only a couple of inches of space between us now.
“We meet again,” he says. Again, in a tone that says he’s stating a fact rather than hinting at having any reservations about spending a few more minutes in my presence.
“Can’t seem to help it,” I mutter, and I do put as much suggestive energy in it as I can, but it doesn’t register at all.
He just keeps looking straight ahead.
The elevator doors are still open, so I press the button impatiently a few times to get it moving. Finally, mercifully, the doors slide shut.
The elevator starts to descend. Only a few more moments in this awkward silence, and then we can both go our own way.
I will never speak of what happened tonight again, he can laugh about it with his friends and family, and I’ll probably feature in all his worst-date-of-my-life stories from here on out.
The elevator comes to a halt with a sudden jerk and an earsplitting screech.
And then the floor disappears from underneath me.