Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Nikolas
Leyla’s reaction was hard to miss. Her eyes were about as wide as her open mouth as she looked up into the face of a man wearing a smirk like an accessory.
“It is you. Wow, how long has it been?” asked the tall blond man holding hands with a woman who looked at everyone except Leyla.
Leyla recovered quickly, looking up at him with narrowed eyes and said, “Oh, let’s see. Since the day you broke up with me about two years ago, give or take.”
So this was Ethan. The man who broke her heart. I didn’t get angry often, but I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to punch that smirk off his face.
The woman cleared her throat and said quietly, “Ethan, let’s go.”
Apparently, Ethan lacked common sense and dug in his heels.
“Ba-by.” He elongated the word, his tone whiny. Now I really wanted to hit this guy.
“There’s no need to be uncomfortable,” he continued. “Leyla and I are old friends. No harm in saying hello.”
He had yet to acknowledge my presence, and something about his attitude reminded me of how I used to let people make me feel: invisible. Small. Unworthy.
As I watched Leyla’s shoulders start to hunch, as if she were closing in on herself, I decided tonight wasn’t the night for passivity.
Reaching across the small linen-topped table, I took her hand in mine. The connection caused her to shift her focus from him to my hand, her eyebrows pulling tightly.
With her soft hand firmly in mine, I leaned over, pulled it to me, and lifted it slowly to my lips. When I kissed her knuckles, she sighed audibly, and Ethan straightened in my periphery.
Ignoring him, I locked eyes with hers, turned her hand slowly, and kissed the inside of her wrist. Her sweet vanilla perfume was strong there, and I could taste it as I kissed her again, wondering if her lips would taste like vanilla too.
“I don’t know who this person is, hyatim, but I’d like to get back to adoring you. Alone. Will he leave if we ignore him?” My voice was clear and strong, my eyes set firmly on hers.
Leyla sucked in a breath, her hand trembling as my lips hovered over her pulse point, poised to continue feeling its erratic drumming under my lips. Ethan’s date must have had enough and growled out his name, pulling him away.
“Th-they’re gone,” Leyla whispered, her eyes moving down to my mouth.
Because I had no self-control around her, I lightly kissed her once more. Our fingers stilled as if neither of us wanted this to end. A few moments later, Leyla slowly slid her hand away. She put her hands over her adorably pink cheeks, unable to hide her reaction.
It didn’t matter whether it was because of him or me. I was the one sitting with her at this table. There was no way to know whether she would ever be mine, but in this moment, she was, and it was enough. At least for now.
“Wow, you, um. That was…,” she whispered, fanning her face with the menu.
I smiled, enjoying how she reacted to me. “It worked. He finally got the hint and left.”
She took a sip of her water, set it down, and said, “Yes, that it did.” Reaching for her glass again, she drained it, and I had to bite back a smile.
“What did you call me?” she asked, her voice starting to rise above a whisper.
At first, I wasn’t sure what she meant, but then I remembered the Turkish phrase I’d always wanted to use for the woman who would be my wife one day.
“Oh, I called you hyatim. My life.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Are you serious right now?” Her voice was squeaky and high-pitched.
“Did you not like my term of endearment? That’s what it was, in case you’re not sure. Boys call their girlfriends ‘baby’. Men call them ‘my life’.”
Her breaths were shallow as she looked at me.
Everything in me screamed to pull her into my arms, press my lips to the pulse point on her neck, where I was sure her perfume would be strongest, and feel what my words were doing to her.
The caveman inside me had returned, and he was as unfamiliar to me as he was to her.
Watching her full lips part as she tried to slow her breath, I was about to lose control. I never, ever lost control. Leyla licked her lips. Her throat bobbed with a swallow, but no words came out.
Kiss her, kiss her!
Instinctively, I leaned ever so slightly toward her.
I wasn’t positive, but it looked like she had as well.
My thoughts waged war within me. Part of me wanted to run, knowing I was going to mess this up once she saw how awful I was at relationships.
But part of me wanted to conjure up my inner Hitch and lean to that darn 90% to see if she’d breach the distance.
The rising tension snapped when our server appeared and introduced himself. Leyla sat back, her eyes blinking several times. My nerves were all over the place as I leaned back and tried to pay attention to our server.
As he went over the night’s specials, I calmed the beast within, reminding myself that this was a pretend date.
Leyla looked at me again, and I wondered if we could just get up and leave so I could kiss her in private. When neither of us made a move to order, our server politely said he’d give us some more time.
I knew what she was thinking. The things I allowed to flow from my heart were the things she thought she was here to teach me. I had news for her. The words I’d spoken, the sincere compliments I’d given, had never come from me before.
The few girlfriends I’d had, though short-lived, never made me feel what I felt in Leyla’s presence. Words just flowed naturally from a place of complete surrender to the woman who made me feel whole. There was no other explanation for it.
All that connected us were four short months working together years ago, followed by angry words and the empty space left when she walked out of my life. In the month or so I’d been at Earth Organix, more than half of it was spent dodging her animosity.
And yet…
Whenever she and I were alone, a quiet peace settled over me.
It was like two souls melding together. Her presence made me feel as if I’d been searching in the desert for years, only to reach a deep river that promised not only to relieve my parched body, but also to fill me up and heal all my hidden wounds. She spoke, pulling me out of my trance.
“The word you used, hyatim? That’s a very beautiful saying. I’ve never heard anything like that. It was like poetry,” she said, her cheeks back to their porcelain perfection.
“Our language is full of poetic meaning. I’m glad you liked it.”
The server reappeared, and we both scanned the menu quickly and ordered, letting him know we’d stick with just water for now.
Alone again, she said, “Thank you for making that awkward encounter bearable. I knew I’d run into him, or them, eventually. I’m glad I was with you when it happened.”
“I’m glad I was, too. He’s a bit of an idiot, isn’t he?”
She chuckled. “Yeah, in the end, that described him well. No idea what his thought process was with what he was saying. The only thing he accomplished was making his fiancée jealous, and me irritated.”
“Like I said. An idiot.” We laughed in agreement. “But you didn’t need me at all. Your witty comeback was ruthless.”
“Well, I’d practiced it enough. Always wanted to have a snappy comeback ready if I ever saw him again. But you. What in the sexy hand kissing magic was that, Mr. Smooth?”
I laughed so hard my side started to hurt. Her bright smile, watching me come apart next to her, was worth everything. All my anxiety melted away.
“Seriously, though. I know you practice ahead of time, but do you practice that, too? Like do you do it in the mirror with your smoldering looks?”
Raising my eyebrows and smiling, I answered, “I told you about preparing for social settings in confidence, not to throw it back at me.” Having her tease me about what I’d shared with her brought another level of connection that caught me completely off guard.
Sheepishly, she answered, “Too soon? I didn’t offend you, did I?”
“Not at all. You just gave me a nickname, although it’s terrible,” I said with a grin. “Do I get to use the one I gave you?”
Her brows furrowed. “What nickname did you give me?”
“Hyatim.”
Leyla was so still she looked like she had stopped breathing. Finally, she took a deep breath in through her nose. “You should save that for your mystery woman.”
Man, that backfired. Pivoting, I asked another question.
“But you do think I’m sexy, though?” I asked, my face smug as I brushed off nonexistent lint from my shoulders.
Leyla scoffed loudly. “Just like a man to snag on the sexy part. You’ve been hanging out with Mike and Luke too long.”
When I didn’t answer, she asked, “What?”
“Still waiting for your answer.”
She laughed loudly, the kind I loved, and shook her head incredulously.
“You’re as ridiculous as Luke right now.
Fine. Yes, you’re sexy, Nikolas Demir. You and your hand kissing, Turkish love words, brooding self.
Yes, that was very sexy.” Her hands waved over me as she spoke, and my whole body preened.
Leaning in toward her, I whispered, “I know.”
She huffed out a laugh and grabbed her glass, only to find it empty, and set it back down.
I wasn’t sure who this new Niko was, but if it meant I could sweep her off her feet, I was all in. Moving from a passionate moment to laughter confirmed she was the woman I wanted.
Eat your hearts out, Tom and Will.