Chapter Nine Dane #2
She’s spared from having to answer right away by our waiter returning with our food and drinks.
Our conversation lulls into a surprisingly comfortable silence as we pick at the tapas and sip our drinks.
I notice how Eliott avoids anything with tomatoes in and I have vague memories of her telling me about her aversion when we first met.
‘Always,’ she says quietly. It’s the first thing she’s said in a few minutes and it takes me a second or two to remember what question she’s answering.
‘Always?’
She nods as she sips her cocktail. For the first time tonight, she’s avoiding all eye contact with me.
‘I always fake it because—’ She takes a huge gulp of her cocktail, almost finishing the drink, and slams the glass back down onto the table.
Her next words come out in a flurry, like she’s forcing herself to get them out.
‘Because I can’t come. And sometimes it’s easier to just fake it and get it over with. ’
‘You can’t come? Like at all?’ It feels weird to be having this conversation in the middle of a restaurant, but we’re far enough away from any of the other booths, there’s no danger of anyone listening in. I shake my head in disbelief. ‘Of course you can.’
She looks up at me and the expression in her eyes is something I’ve not seen before. A mixture of anger and pain. I don’t like it.
‘ I can’t,’ she says gruffly, leaving no room for argument.
‘Not with another person, anyway. I’ve tried and I’ve tried, and it just won’t happen for me.
I thought that maybe, maybe , I could get there with you, but even that was a dud.
And if I couldn’t do it with someone who looks like you—’ She waves a hand in my direction, looking halfway between pissed off and turned on.
‘Then there’s no hope. That’s why I faked it, and that’s why I was trying to avoid you at the party.
You’re like a walking, talking reminder of everything that’s wrong with me. ’
‘There’s nothing wrong with you, Eliott.’ And I mean it too. Where the hell did she get that from? Are these the words she hurls at herself in the mirror late at night, or is she just repeating something she’s heard from someone else? I’m not sure why, but I really hope not.
I clear my throat. ‘I’ve heard that a lot of women find it difficult to—’
‘Oh God. Stop,’ Eliott groans. ‘Just stop.’ She picks up her glass again and downs the rest of her drink. ‘I don’t need to hear this from you of all people. Absolutely not. Don’t you even dare think about finishing that sentence.’
I mime zipping my lips shut and sit in silence until Eliott gives me a nod of approval.
‘Thank you. I’m not here for your sympathy or anything like that. I just wanted to explain.’
We lapse into another silence. Eliott picks at the remaining tapas between us, awkwardly avoiding my gaze, and I try to figure out something to say that won’t have her leaping across the table to choke me.
‘We could try again.’
She looks up and, for a second, I’m not sure I’ve made the right choice.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Let’s try again,’ I say, trying to sound as casual as possible. ‘Me and you.’
I think the noise that comes out of her mouth is supposed to be a laugh, but it doesn’t sound right. It sounds strained, like she’s forcing it out to try to keep the atmosphere between us light. ‘Yes, because that worked out so well last time.’
Fair point, but…
‘Last time, I didn’t know all the facts. We’re on an even playing field now.’
Her jaw clenches and I don’t miss the way she leans back slightly into her seat, putting some distance between us. ‘Can you be serious?’
‘I am being serious. What’s the harm in trying again?’
She opens her mouth, then closes it abruptly, her brows knitting together in the middle.
‘ See ,’ I say with a smirk. ‘There’s no downside here. It’ll be a win-win situation for both of us. You have some great sex, come, and learn what gets you going.’
‘And you?’ she asks. She’s leaned forward again, dropping her chin into the palm of her hand as she looks up at me. As much as she’s trying to temper it, I can plainly see a flash of curiosity in her eyes. ‘What’re you getting out of this arrangement?’
I lean in further too and drop my voice to a low murmur. ‘I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but you’re gorgeous.’
We’re close enough now that I can see the way her pupils widen at the compliment.
I’m also pretty sure that if I pressed a hand to her cheek now, I’d feel a warmth crawling up her skin.
The desire to do just that hits me with a surprising fierceness and, if this had been any other date, I’d do it without hesitation.
I’d cup her jaw and pull her in for a kiss. The kind of kiss that would inevitably have us heading back to my place. But this isn’t any other date, so I push down the desire and avoid looking at her lips.
Though they are very nice lips.
‘Spending time with you isn’t exactly going to be a chore, Eliott.’
Her gaze flickers down to my lips. It’s only for a moment, but she lingers long enough for me to catch the action.
Fuck it.
I bring a hand up and let my thumb trail along her cheekbone. The skin beneath me is warm, just like I’d expected, and still as soft as I remember. ‘What do you think, Eliott? You want to try again?’
The restaurant is loud and heaving around us, but every single sound seems to fade away into a distant echo as I wait for her to give me an answer.
Her deep brown eyes don’t break eye contact with my own as she considers me for several long, silent seconds.
Just when I’m starting to think she’s not going to answer at all, she leans in even further.
There’s barely any space between us now.
Her lips part and I bite back a groan.
‘One more time?’ she whispers, her lips ghosting against my own. Not quite a kiss. More like a brief taste of what’s to come.
I nod and I can feel the way she grins against me. She hums quietly and then, just as I think she’s about to end this unique form of torture and press her lips firmly against mine, she pulls back and laughs.
‘No.’
I blink back at her, still dazed. Still feeling the ghost of her lips against mine. ‘No?’
Amusement dances in her eyes. ‘Hell, no .’