Page 7 of One More Time
Lucy laughed. ‘Yep, add some time at Comic-Con and you’ve just spelled out the FBI’s 1994 guide to identifying a geek.’
‘Bullshit.’
Lucy snort-laughed. ‘Well, I definitely call bullshit on you. Youhadto know. You had to! Girls actually stopped midstride in the hallways to gawk at you.’ She knew. She had occasionally been one of them.
‘Is that what they were doing?’ he asked.
God, teenagers were stupid. If proof were ever necessary, here it was.
‘Wow,’ Lucy mused. ‘You have just completely altered everything I thought I knew about high school.’
He shrugged. ‘I always felt like an outsider.’
Nicky looked at her then with a sort of vulnerability, a kind of tenderness that made her skin prickle.
‘Same,’ Lucy breathed.
The elevator doors opened and broke the moment. Nicky made a point to pull the sleeves of his Henley down to his wrists.
‘This way,’ Nicky said. He guided her forward with the mere hint of a touch at her lower back. It was a graze. A whisper. Barely there. Still, Lucy’s body lit up like the Strip – all blinking neon and blinding incandescence.
Holy shit.
Nicky led her through a busy atrium, then a bank of slot machines lined up like soldiers awaiting inspection. Only one was occupied. By a woman wearing heavy eyeliner and a shirt with daisies printed all over it. Her head turned from the flashing dollar signs on the screen in front of her. As soon as her eyes landed on Nicky, she did a double take. An actual double take, with aconfused furrow forming over her brow as her jaw hit the floor.
Same, honey. Same.
Nicky stopped them at a restaurant called Gioco situated between the poker room and pokerslotsroom.
He stepped to the hostess stand, where no name was asked, and none was given.
Instead, the bespectacled hostess greeted them with: ‘Welcome. Please follow me, Mr. Broome.’
The hostess guided them through a large dining area dripping in coffee-colored velvet and bronze lighting. To her credit, the young woman gaped slack-jawed at Nicky only three times on the short trip. Lucy admired the girl’s self-control.
She left them at a rounded banquette nestled in a private nook. It was more velvet, more bronze, more opulence. Shielded from the rest of the space by a thick curtain, the room felt close, comfortable, and seductive. Impossibly sexy.
Lucy slid herself into the booth and picked up her menu. No prices, just detailed descriptions, and a bunch of liquor brands she’d never heard of.
Almost immediately, their server appeared. Just as quickly, the man tried not to choke when he recognized Nicky.
‘What can I get for you, miss?’
The ‘miss’ was a nice touch, since she most certainly qualified as ‘ma’am.’
‘I’ll have an Old Fashioned, please. Heavy on the cherries,’ Lucy said.
‘Certainly,’ the server replied.
‘And you know what?’ Lucy added. ‘Make it a double.’
‘Of course.’
Nicky said, ‘Modelo, draft. Please.’
‘It would be my pleasure,’ the man replied before disappearing.
As silence once again stretched out between them, Nicky’s eyes bounced around Lucy’s face.
