Page 62 of Addicted Lies

The waitress comes back with the wine, and I smile as she pours it for us. Then I take a sip of the bitter liquid.

“I was raised that it’s your body, your choice,” I reply.

“Yes, of course.” He doesn’t ask me what I got or where I got it. He actually changes the subject and then starts talking about the movie that we’ll be seeing after dinner. The meal is nice, and thankfully, the company isn’t too bad either. As the night goes on and the wine goes to my head, I stop thinking about Ford.

That is until Matthew finally asks me what tattoo I got. It pulls me straight back to the tattoo parlor. Straight back to Ford’s hands all over me. In true Ford fashion, he’s interrupting my one experience of what seems like an ordinary date. And he’s not even here.

“Sorry, what?” I ask as he offers me his hand when we stand to leave.

“You said earlier you got a tattoo, but you didn’t say what it was.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. It’s just a small heart.”

“Nice. And where on your body did you get it?” He looks me over. “I don’t see it.”

I wait until he pays for the meal, and we’re outside to tell him. “That’s because you would have to remove my clothes to see it.” He stops in his tracks.

“Remove your clothes?” he questions. I nod, smiling at the way he says it like it’s an option. “Well, that just made the night more interesting. Now I’m going to be wondering where I can find a small heart.” He winks.

The night air is cool, and we walk to the cinema, which is only a few blocks away. He pays for our tickets, and we get popcorn and chocolate to share before we head into the theater. It’s the most ordinary date, and it’s kind of nice.

The movie is a romantic comedy, and at one stage, he reaches over and clasps my hand in his.

It’s sweet. Not what I’m used to, that’s for sure.

When the movie is over, he doesn’t let go of my hand as we leave. I’m wondering if he’s going to kiss me when we get outside.Do I want him to?The few times Ford ever kissed me, I had to ask him to do it, and I hate that I’m once again comparing Matthew with him.

“Did you drive? I can walk you back to your car,” Matthew offers.

“No, I walked,” I tell him. “But I’m not far.” I point down the road, wanting to walk. It’s become a ritual lately.

“I’ll walk you, then.” I go to decline, so used to doing things independently, but I accept the offer, curious as to whether he’ll try to come upstairs. I don’t think he’s that type of guy, but who knows. And I don’t know if I’d let him up if he does ask.

He doesn’t let go of my hand as we walk to my apartment. We talk about his work, which I find fascinating in a dramatic way. I can definitely see how my cousin and brother use him for business.

When we’re only a few doors from my apartment building, he casually asks, “So, can I see you again?”

“You want a second date?” I ask, somewhat charmed. I’m obviously a good date, then.

“Yes, I do.” I smile at his words. When we reach my apartment, I try to pull my hand free, but he leans in so close our bodies are almost touching. He smells different. Feels different. Everything about him is different. And I’m not entirely sure if I want it, but I definitely want to try.

His hand releases mine to raise and touch my face, ever so gently holding me still. “A second date?” he asks again.

“I think I can arrange that,” I reply. But there’s no butterflies. I push past it because I should be focusing on someone like Matthew. He’s nice, driven, normal. He smiles as I stare up at him, then he leans down. His lips lower to mine. It’s soft and tender. I open my mouth just as he pulls back.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he says, stepping back with a smile.

“Okay.” And I watch as he walks away. My smile falters as I realize my heart didn’t flutter when he kissed me. It’s gnawing at me, knowing I should like a guy like him, wanting to, but it feels no different than if I were hanging with a friend. But it’s more than that with Matthew, right? We get along so well.

“Remind me why I shouldn’t kill him.” A low growl comes from over my shoulder, and I gasp, turning and swinging my fist. I hit Ford straight in the nose, but he barely flinches.

“Oh fuck me! Don’t sneak up on me like that. Where the fuck did you come from?” I blurt, steadying my breathing as the adrenaline starts to recede. I go to ask him if he’s okay, but then it hits me.How long has he been here?“You’ve got to be kidding me. Ford, what the actual fuck? You can’t keep showing up like this. We’re done, remember?” I throw my hands in the air.

His jaw tics as he glares over my shoulder in the direction that Matthew went. “I think he’s the least of your concerns, wouldn’t you say? What if someone else saw you?” I ask.

“I never cared about who found out about us.Youdid.”

I blanch. “You can’t be serious right now. You were the one who made it clear you didn’t want anything but sex.”

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