Chapter One #2
But then I zeroed in on the mischievous friend.
Despite his novelty T-shirt, he exuded a sexiness that made my breath hitch.
With his black hair, dark eyes, olive skin, and devil-may-care smirk, he was way more my type than the blond.
Positively disastrous to my health. As we stood gawking, his head swiveled around like a magnet pointing true north, and his eyes locked with mine.
My heart slammed in my chest, and I let my gaze bounce off him, as though I’d been staring at something beyond.
My gut twisted into knots. I wanted to trade with Elizabeth, for my own self-preservation, but she’d already claimed her guy. Besides, since I was unlocking “authentic” tonight, I didn’t worry this exchange would risk a romantic entanglement. Nobody could sustain interest in the real me.
I stopped myself. That was Old Chelsea thinking. Dr. Rubin constantly reminded me I needed to challenge the lies I told myself. New Chelsea believed someone could love her, warts and all. Fake it ’til you make it.
With a gentle nudge, I squared my shoulders to hide my own panic. “You planning to wait until he leaves?”
“He’s too beautiful, Chelsea. It’s painful.”
“He’s just an ordinary guy, E.” But I wasn’t immune to the nervous butterflies. At least we were in this together. “I bet he has a business degree with a minor in economics.”
“Right. His name is something common like Chris or Daniel.” She was always fictionalizing total strangers on the fly. “Probably a salesman or something boring.”
“Go on. I’m right behind you.”
She flicked her eyes heavenward. “Okay, fine.”
“Remember: nothing but utter bullshit.”
Her sour expression melted into a wicked smirk. “And you’re sworn to complete, authentic truth.”
She squeezed my hand, then strolled past the guys as though on her way to order another drink and turned sharply around, her face transforming from idle curiosity to astonishment as she approached Chris-Daniel and exclaimed, “Oh my gosh. How long has it been?”
I stifled a laugh at the classic haven’t seen you in years gambit.
Easy to pull off, and the stakes were low.
She could always claim she’d made a mistake if he called her on it.
More than likely he’d go along. Only an asshole would immediately rebuff a pretty girl claiming to be an old acquaintance.
“It’s Elizabeth. I was in your class with, uh—”
I held my breath waiting for him to bite, to mouth the easy lie, with the usual, “Oh, yeah, hey. How are you?” and a wrinkled forehead of confusion.
But then…
Holy shit, he dropped a name.
“Lizzy? Lizzy Graham?”
Oh my fuck. Had he just confused her with someone real? I wanted to scream, “Abort! Abort!” but before I could even round my lips into a vowel, she picked up the fuse and lit it. “That’s right! I can’t believe you remember me.”
His bright, church-boy smile dazzled. “Well, how could I forget? I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you right away.”
I groaned at the disaster in the making.
With guileless enthusiasm, he turned to introduce his very fine friend to Elizabeth. “This is my friend, Bas. Bas, Lizzy and I were close friends in middle school. Small world, huh?”
Whoever this Lizzy Graham was, Elizabeth was about to step into the role.
There was no way out but through, so I joined the fray. “Lizzy, were you going to introduce me to your friend?” I held out my hand to the blond. “Hi. I’m Chelsea Abbott.”
He was even hotter up close. Like magazine model pretty, and I shot a glance of pity at Elizabeth because she hadn’t signed up for this catastrophe.
The pretty boy reached out to clasp my hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Evan Spurlock.”
The devil got into me, and I couldn’t help ratcheting up Elizabeth’s lie.
“Not the Evan Spurlock.” He looked baffled, of course.
I snickered as the blood drained from Elizabeth’s face and added, “Oh, I probably shouldn’t tell you this.
” I locked eyes with Elizabeth, sadistic executioner persona on standby, and she blinked, horror and curiosity vying for dominance. “But it has been a long time, right?”
And here was why I loved hanging with my copilot, Elizabeth. Despite the blush crawling up her cheeks, she gave in to curiosity as though transfixed by a flaming train car plunging off the cliff. “Go ahead.”
I licked my lips, enjoying her delicious anxiety. “Lizzy used to tell me about a guy named Evan Spurlock she had a major crush on in high school.” I considered Evan a minute. “I can see why.”
Seriously, this was the boy Elizabeth would have created from clay and magic if she had the gift. He had integrity and beautiful offspring written all over him.
Elizabeth could go toe-to-toe with me when shenanigans were on the line. Through her mortification, she had the presence of mind to direct my attention to Evan’s right and engage my own agreed-upon dare. “Chelsea, have you met Bas?”
I cast my eyes at the Mediterranean morsel stretching his hand out to me in greeting and could’ve sworn I’d seen him somewhere before. “You look familiar. Have we met?”
Elizabeth’s eyes flashed accusations of cheating, but I wasn’t bullshitting. I couldn’t place where I’d seen that face before. Possibly in my dreams.
Bas accepted my outstretched hand and didn’t let it go. “I think I’d remember you.”
A flutter gripped my insides, and I breathed in to kill it. God, this was going to be a shit show.
Desperate to keep the conversation light, I asked him, “What kind of name is Bas? Is it short for Sebastian?”
“It’s Greek. My full name is Basil Demetri Stavros”—he pronounced Basil like it rhymed with dazzle—“just in case all this hadn’t given it away.
” He dramatically gestured at his face. His skin, the color of golden beaches; his dark hair, thick and wavy; his aquiline nose; and his eyes like liquid moss.
Eyes that went from amused to smoldering without warning.
My heart skipped a beat, and I inched back. Say something honest. I gulped. “I’ve always wanted to go to Greece.”
He moved into my space. He smelled like cinnamon, comforting and inviting, like some Hallmark idea of home. I ached to snuggle into him. “I’m not from there. I grew up in Richmond.”
“Do you still live there?” I crossed my fingers, praying he’d come in from out of town, so I could surrender to temptation and salvage a one-nighter from this encounter. I’d slake my physical needs and never see him again.
I stared at his mouth lasciviously, then lifted my eyes to his, signaling my willingness to join him wherever he was staying.
Other than Tinder, which I hated, my options for meaningless, self-effacing sex fell into three basic groups: ever-younger college boys, sexy men I hit and quit while traveling, or the occasional hot-blooded adult male visiting Charlottesville with a limited shelf life.
If Bas was of the latter ilk, then what a stroke of luck.
I bet Basil Demetri Stavros made delicious faces when he came.
He chuckled, a little nervously. “Ah, no. I live over on 9th, off Cherry.”
Not a mile from my house. Damn. A hookup with a thirst trap like him, so close to home, was out of the question. Too risky.
I recognized the thoughts as Old Chelsea. The whole point of this exercise was to take a risk, let someone see me. New Chelsea had the courage of her convictions and would survive even if he did live within walking distance.
Small talk. Nice and easy. “Do they still have the Greek festival in Richmond? Oh my God, the food.”
“You like Greek food?”
The babbling started in earnest. Food. Food was a topic I could authentically skate across forever.
“I love Greek food. I can’t make anything myself, though I’ve tried.
I’ll spend hours watching Food Network and sometimes attempt the recipes, but I’d rather just buy my food premade. What about you?”
“Oh yes. I love food shows. Watching others cook is relaxing. You find it entertaining?”
“It’s my porn.”
He bent forward, and his breath warmed my lips. “And if I cooked for you in my kitchen?”
Goose bumps skittered down my neck, from desire—or maybe fear.
Evan broke in. “You would die if you ever ate Basil’s cooking. He’s an artist.”
My voice came out a rasp. “What would you make?”
His mouth curled in a half smile. “Anything you want. I’m a chef.”
I grabbed the rail of the bar, knees threatening to collapse. “Where do you work?”
“Do you know the organic market on Main?”
Brain waves sparked; synapses fired. “That’s where I know you! I practically live there.”
The chefs at the market often emerged from the kitchens to add new items to the prepared food case, and I would hover, waiting to see if anything new would materialize.
“Then it’s for you I’ve been cooking all this time.” His smile was adorably lopsided. “Come find me next time you’re in. I’ll give you a sample.”
My laugh rattled, shaky and uneven. “You’re funny.” I worried anything else honest I said at that moment would reveal too much. No way I’d let this charming guy waltz in and sweep me off my feet.
His lip caught in his teeth, and he dragged his eyes along my body in a way that left me feeling exposed and flustered. Basil’s gaze made me wish I were naked.
My jaw worked helplessly as I searched for any kind of response beyond, “Take me, I’m yours.”
Evan saved me, asking, “Do you both live in Charlottesville?”
Elizabeth, trapped in her lies, shot me a panic-stricken, wide-eyed plea for help, so I took mercy on her. “We live nearby. What about you?”
Evan shook his head. “I’m only in town for tonight. I live in Indiana right now.”
“Oh, wow. And what do you do there?” Elizabeth asked, cheating her way with questions the same way I’d tried. It probably took the pressure off some, knowing she’d likely never see him again. Lucky.
He rubbed the back of his neck like he was embarrassed to say, but what he came out with was, “I’m a meteorologist for a newscast.”
“You’re a weatherman? Like on TV?” Elizabeth’s eyes widened.