Page 10 of Of Flesh & Bone

Heart fluttering.Damn it!Heart, you and I are about to square up.Get your shit together!

“Okay.I’m this way.”I point in the direction of Frances.Standing beside my Jeep, I pull off the hoodie and put it in the back.The weather in Austin this time of year is much too warm for it.I just wear it to classes so that I'm left alone.People don’t bother the weird girl wearing a hoodie when the temperature is anything over 80 degrees.Looking up, I notice him watching me.He appears to be transfixed and I’m not sure what he’s staring at.He’s looking toward my hips or maybe my chest.I would just assume that he’s surprised by my figure, but he already saw me in tiny tight shorts and a tank top at practice yesterday.He definitely didn't seem overly interested then.Maybe he likes my Lynyrd Skynyrd tee.I hop up into the driver’s seat and look over at him again.He’s still standing outside the vehicle, just looking at me.He always seems to be trying to figure something out.

“Did you change your mind?”

Without a word, he reaches up to grab the handle and climbs in.

“Where to?”I ask while reaching for the dash to punch the name of the restaurant into the GPS.

“Capital Grille”

I pause.My finger freezing in place over the touchscreen of the navigation system.

“That place is a little fancy for lunch.”

“It's fine, I have lunch there all the time.”

Chewing my bottom lip, I think of how to word my next sentence.

“I don’t like to attract attention.”I look down at my worn-out Converse and tug on the bottom of my shirt.

He looks at me again.For a long moment, he just looks and doesn’t say a word.Finally, he says “Red Ash.It’s quiet.Italian food.”

Never heard of it.I do love Italian though.I type Red Ash into the touchscreen and start backing out of the parking space before realizing what an absolute idiot I am.Slamming on the brakes, I put my forehead on the steering wheel.I don’t even look at him, but I know he’s thinking that I’ve lost my mind.

“What’s your name?”

“Excuse me?”

“What’s your name?I've been using various descriptors in my mind and it’s only just now that I'm going who only knows where alone with you that I realize I don’t know your name.“

“Various descriptors, huh?Care to share?”

“What’s your name?”The words are repeated with far less patience.

He parrots the question back to me with emphasis on 'your'.“What’s YOUR name?”

“I asked you first.”

He stays silent for such a long time that I think he isn’t going to answer.Finally, he says “Adam.”

I mentally face palm.Of course it is.There’s not a chance in hell that he isn’t going to make the correlation between our names.There’s no going back now though, so with as little nervous energy as I can muster, I say, “It’s nice to meet you, Adam.I'm Eve.”

Slowly, he faces forward while tilting his head back onto the headrest.He doesn’t say a word as I pull out of the parking lot and onto the street.We drive to the restaurant in affable silence.When we pull up in the parking lot, he gets out quickly but, somehow, with the grace of a cheetah.I stay rooted to my seat, just watching to see what he's going to do next.At first, I think he's just in a hurry to get inside but then, he rounds the front of Frances and comes toward my side.

I watch as he comes to my door and opens it, holding out his free hand to help me down.Frances is lifted, so it’s a bit of a drop, but nothing I can’t handle with the step rails.Besides, I’m tall.All of us volleyball players are taller than the average female.I take his hand anyway because...well because I have wanted to touch him since the day he attempted to steal my drink.I keep doing dumb shit.First, I engaged with this man at all.Second, I antagonized him with name calling.Third, I let him get in my damn car.Fourth, I.Touched.Him.

I have never felt a sensation quite like this one.It starts at the point of contact, and it radiates up my arm but wait...it’s radiating up both of my arms.I'm looking down at where our hands are linked, and I'm sure that I look crazed because I'm both perplexed and thrilled by what is happening.The feeling is still moving up, and now it is in my chest, settling there.Putting my free hand over my chest, I look up to see him...staring at me.No...glaring at me.He looks intense.Jaw tense.Eyes piercing.That is a look of fury and wrath and...vexation?Is it directed at ME?Yes.

He’s looking at me and he doesn’t seem to even be aware of the world around us.Did he feel something too?Possibly, but if he did, he didn’t find it pleasant.We stay here, unmoving for long seconds.Maybe minutes before I hear, “Come.”

I comply because it feels like I don’t have a choice.It feels as though my body is just going to do what he tells it to do.It’s strange because, before the touch, all I wanted to do was to defy him and now all I want to do is...obey?Nope.Nope.Nope.Shake that shit right off.Obey?What in the actual fuck?No, thank you.

I hop from the Jeep and attempt to pull my hand free from his.He was looking toward the door of the restaurant and at this obvious slight, he scowls back at me, tightening his hold on my hand.Who is this guy?He does gentlemanly things like opening my door and taking my hand to help me from the car, but he’s also dark and broody, borderline aggressive.He seems determined to get his way and right now, he wants to hold my hand.Fine.It’s a small battle.He can have this one.I will choose my battles wisely because if I know anything, it’s that there is a war coming and it’s the war that I will choose to win.

We're walking hand in hand inside the restaurant and...it’s fancy.It's not at all the hole in the wall that I had hoped for.There is a nicely dressed hostess, white tablecloths, and a dapper-looking bartender that screams ‘pricey meal’.I look at Adam with my best ‘this is not what we agreed on’ glower, but he just looks back at me with a completely blank expression, letting me know that he's unfazed by my annoyance.He got exactly what he wanted.We’re here having lunch at the restaurant of his choice, and it makes me wonder if he even wanted to go to Capital Grille in the first place or if the whole thing was just a mind screw so that he could get me to agree to what he had wanted all along.

He's leaning in, speaking softly to the hostess.She gives one curt nod and leads us around the outer edge of the dining room.Our table is in the back, and I realize we took the long way around to get here.We’re also seated in a section that appears to be closed, as it is far away from the other diners.Did he ask her to not draw attention to us?Did he ask her to seat us away from other patrons?He doesn’t strike me as the accommodating type, but he is so enigmatic.Ugh, I just can’t figure him out.

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