Chapter 9 Molly #3
‘Wine makes your cheeks rosy,’ he says. This I did know, and if they weren’t already flushed, I’m sure the observation would make me blush even further. I clear my throat and hold my hands under my thighs to stop myself from wiggling.
‘Some people are very graceful drinkers.’ I nod at Devi, who is now making a whole table of our colleagues erupt in laughter from a story she’s theatrically telling.
Her skin is perfect, blemish free, not an acne scar in sight, and when she blushes it is a rather elegant sort of pink to her brown skin.
Not the all-around tomato thing I have going on.
‘You’re perfectly graceful,’ he objects. ‘Completely alive.’
I raise a brow at what I think is a compliment but truly cannot be sure and am startled when the bartender asks me if I want another drink. I ask for a sparkling water and Elijah just shakes his head when I look to him for his order.
I think the two shots have sufficiently lowered my inhibitions, because I don’t even think twice before saying, ‘What’s the red stuff you’re always drinking?’
Elijah goes preternaturally still, his face falling. ‘Come again?’
I raise my brows at his intense gaze and take a sip of the cup of seltzer water the bartender slid to me. ‘In your water bottle at work. It’s like a shake or something, right?’
‘Right,’ he agrees.
‘Don’t you know you’re supposed to drink like three litres of water a day?’ I ask, aiming for joking, but obviously falling a mile short based on the blank look he gives me. ‘Kidding. Well, not kidding about the water, that’s true, but you can get your hydration however you want.’
Stupid, stupid, stupid, I chide myself. I had thought we were approaching joking territory after chatting amicably about monsterfucker romance this afternoon, but apparently that was not the case.
‘No, it’s…’ Elijah coughs to clear his throat. ‘Never mind. I’ve been on a diet.’
‘Sure, that’s cool.’ I avoid his gaze by looking down at the bar. ‘Was just a joke because, like, I’ve never seen you eat or drink anything else.’
He says nothing, so I take that as my sign to keep babbling on.
‘But whatever you’re doing must be working for you because, as Kenneth loves to point out, you’re kind of jacked.
’ I look pointedly at his biceps and shoulders, which stretch the fabric of his button-up, not in a way that seems intentional, but like no shirt could really hide the muscles beneath.
‘And your skin is insanely smooth; better than Devi’s, even, and she has a skincare routine I wouldn’t wish on anyone. ’
I peer up at his face now, and he searches my eyes, concern so clear in his. God, he thinks I’m a freak, and probably fears I’m into him. He’s worried about my sanity–great, great. The strangest man I’ve ever known now thinks that I’m horny for him. Cool.
I slump my shoulders, which only brings me nearer to him, our faces concerningly close together now.
Concerning because, this close, I can smell him, and he smells like cinnamon.
And concerning because my gaze falls for a split-second to his mouth, but that was a split-second too long, because now I’m embarrassed and imagining what his lips would feel like.
Get a fucking grip, Molly, this man is your enemy! The bane of your corporate existence!
In fact, am I drunk right now? I must be drunk.
‘I’m going to stop talking,’ I murmur, my voice quiet, but I don’t worry that he won’t hear me.
Not when he’s looking at me like I am confounding and compelling and the noisy bar around us is nothing.
So close that I see in perfect clarity when his own brown eyes shoot down to my lips, locking there for longer than I allowed myself.
‘Elijah?’ I whisper when the weight of his silent attention is too much to bear.
Someone bumps into my back, jostling me and startling us both. The man who bumped me apologises and by the time I’ve told him it’s okay, Elijah is off his stool and sliding his arms into his suit coat.
‘Leaving already?’ Kenneth calls to Elijah. ‘Molly, what did you say?’
I flip Kenneth off, which makes him tip his head back with a laugh, and the startled expression has been wiped from Elijah’s face, replaced instead with his usual friendly, open look.
‘Gotta feed my cat,’ Elijah explains. From the big pocket of his coat, Elijah retrieves his baseball cap and pulls it on. I feel off balance, like maybe I really am drunker than I thought. Maybe I imagined the weirdness between us, the tense moment, the whole staring at my mouth bit.
The department calls out various good nights to him, and he smiles and nods in turn.
‘Night,’ I murmur, and Elijah gives me one more heavy look. I’m not making it up, I’m sure of it.
‘Goodnight, Molly,’ he says. And then he’s gone, striding out of the bar quickly, not looking over his shoulder as he does. When he’s fully retreated from view of the windows, I turn to Devi, who is already looking at me with her eyebrows halfway to her hairline.
‘What happened?’ she mouths. I shrug and drop my hands into my lap. Because, really, what the hell did just happen?