It’s absolutely true, but I don’t know how to change that. Pretending to always be okay feels safe.
Could I maybe . . . risk stepping out in a little drizzle? Just a light one, to start?
Flirting with the stranger might be like stepping out into a drizzle. Because even though I was a bundle of nerves this afternoon, I know that’s what he was doing—flirting with me.
But what if I step into a drizzle . . . and end up caught in a full-on storm?
“Wear rain boots,” one of the waiters says, laughing.
God! Once again, I thought out loud.
I bend to grab a beer from the fridge behind the bar, and when I stand back up, my breath catches.
Jasper has just walked in—somehow even more handsome—in a black shirt rolled up to the elbows and jeans.
This man should be banned from public spaces. It’s just not fair to the rest of us. Every other man in the building pales next to him.
After placing the beer on the tray, I grab a glass and pretend to dry it for a solid two minutes—not because it needs it but because I do. I need to calm down.
The excitement bubbling inside me is like a full-on vibration in my stomach.
Maybe I’m being an idiot, because he did say he wasn’t looking to make friends—just to eat well. But honestly, what better option for a harmless flirtation than a stranger who’s probably leaving on Monday? An untouchable guy?
He sits at the table and scans the room like a king surveying his court. With anyone else, that attitude would seem arrogant, but with him, the power just feels natural. He doesn’t have to try to be noticed. Heads turn to admire him as he moves through the restaurant.
Taking a deep breath, I gather my courage. “I’ll take table five,” I say.
“That’s my section,” one of the waiters replies.
“I’ll give you twelve. All four ordered lobster. Tip’s gonna be huge.”
“Deal.”
Double-checking that my notepad is in my apron pocket, I head toward his table, praying I don’t trip over my own feet. “Mr.Jasper,” I say softly, like I didn’t know he was watching me the whole way there.
Having his attention feels like being trapped in a magnetic field.
“Alexis . . . You’re not colorful tonight, but I like the black of your uniform.”
Of all the things I expected him to say, that completely throws me off. “You’re never going to forgive me for that fish, are you? Am I on your blacklist now?”
He does that thing again—scanning me from head to toe—and I swear if it lasted even a second longer, I’d need an oxygen tank. I can’t breathe.
Time ticks by, and he still hasn’t answered. We just stare at each other, and I don’t care if it’s considered rude—because I literally can’t look away.
“No. You’re on the list of people who get my attention. And it’s a short list.”
“Should I be honored?”
“Probably not. Stay cautious. I tend to cause damage, even when I don’t mean to.”
Lazarus
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Alexis doesn’t seemshocked by my honesty. What I see in her eyes is something entirely different. Admiration? And if so, why? Because I was a brutally honest bastard who told her the chances of her getting hurt are high if she keeps looking at me like that?
“Why would I get hurt? I was just curious about what it is about me that caught your attention. But you don’t need to answer that, Mr. Jasper-who-doesn’t-like-colors.”