Page 2 of Eternally Yours
She’s currently hunched over the table, completely absorbed in the menu that lies flat against the tablecloth. One arm rests on the table along the underside of her breasts, while the other sits freely over her thigh, fully ignorant to the fact my focus is solely on her.
She removes her hand from her thigh and reaches up with a dainty hand, crimson nail polish along the tips of her fingernails, and tucks a loose strand of rich chocolate-colored hair that had fallen in her line of sight behind her ear.
Her plump bottom lip sticks between her teeth as she goes over the dishes with uncertainty. The hand used to tuck her hair back now lies delicately at the bottom of her slender neck.
God, do I wish that was my hand resting against her neck while she...
“All right! Sorry for the wait. Is there somewhere specific you’d like to be seated? I have a table in the back that’s more secluded.”
I’m pulled out of my train of thought by the hostess watching me with that smile on her face again. It takes me a few seconds to register her words as I try to look around her—to the beauty at the table.
I need to talk to her. I need her to look at me and see that pouty mouth turn into a smile. But how?
In that instant, an idea pops into my head that will likely solve all my current problems. “No need, I was looking for someone and just spotted her. But thank you, Madison.”
Her face turns to a scowl, clear anger written on her overly made-up face. “It’s Alex.”
I wince at her words and offer an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
And with that, I walk past her into the busy restaurant and straight toward the beautiful brunette in red. With the craziest plan I have possibly ever come up with in mind. Which says a lot, since I’m known to do crazy things.
Chapter two
Cecilia
Excuse m-… Never mind, proceed! *Activate pretty eyes*
Chez Milano. You’d think with a name like that it would consist of French dining, but given the menu in my hand, it seems mostly Italian. I’m not complaining; I love Italian dishes, but I won’t lie that it caught me by surprise. That’s probably why it’s taking me so long to pick something off the menu.
This place is elegantly beautiful with large, tinted windows lining the restaurant’s facade. Notes of fresh bread and garlic drift throughout the space. An ivory cream color paints the top half of the walls and finishes off with dark wooden planks running vertically down the bottom half.
Square tables topped with immaculate white linens and silverware tucked neatly within a burgundy red cloth napkin fills the space. Up above, exposed dark cherry wood beams line the ceiling, with low pendant lights hanging above every table. The place gives off an intimate atmosphere between lovers, which just amplifies my discomfort at the fact that I’m sitting here alone.
I haven’t yet grown accustomed to dining on my own, but given that I only moved to New York a month ago, I don’t know many people here yet. Excluding my co-workers and best friend, Emma, who happened to get me a job with her at Wilson Events as an event planner.
I’ve been trying to do more things that are out of my comfort zone, become a more adventurous version of myself. So, when I passed in front of Chez Milano on my way home after a long day at work, I made a split-second decision to come inside and try it out.
As I stare off into the menu, debating between two pasta dishes, I notice movement out of the corner of my eye seconds before the chair in front of me is pulled out and a large body seats themself.
My head instantly snaps up to take in whoever in their right mind would have the audacity to simply invite themselves to have dinner at my table without asking forpermission first. But just as I go to tell the stranger they must have the wrong table or is mistaking me for someone else, my breathing halts.
Because there, sitting in front of me, must be the most gorgeous man I have ever laid eyes on. He could easily make the gods themselves blush.Wow…
His head is currently downcast as he adjusts his chair toward the table between us, which gives me just enough time to check him out quickly.
Dear God, that is a fine specimen.
Broad shoulders stretch out the fabric of his navy-blue dress shirt, the material hugging generously built biceps that I would love to squeeze with my hands. He has a beautiful, chiseled jaw with a 5 o’clock shadow growing in and dark brown hair that curls slightly at his nape. The length is just long enough to pass your hand through it and hold on to when needed.
At the top of his head, a lone rogue strand falls over his forehead, right before he passes long, thick fingers through his chestnut-colored hair in an attempt to put it back into place. It’s then I realize his head is no longer looking down, making my eyes snap back to his face only to find his eyes locked on mine in a primal gaze.
He has the most mesmerizing green eyes framed by long lashes that would make any woman jealous. A slightly crooked nose that clearly has been broken before but only adds to his charm. And full lips that I’d love to bite into after a long makeout session. God, just the thought makes my thighs squeeze together beneath the table.
He regards me with a knowing smirk on his lips.Shit, he caught me checking him out.My cheeks instantly flush at the same time my eyes grow wide, which makes his smirk turn into a full-blown smile with perfect white teeth shining through.Ugh! That smile!
“Umm... hi?” I say nervously.
“Hello.”
