Page 32 of Promise Me Nothing
Yuck.
I am beyond glad I get to walk away from whatever the hellthatwas.
I walk through the lobby, which has emptied considerably since I went into the bathroom, as guests make their way to assigned tables. Slipping into the main dining area, I watch for Lucas while allowing my eyes to take in the room.
I’ve never been in a yacht club before, but something tells me this one is pretty fancy. I always pictured them being more like a dive bar that just happens to be connected to docks with boats on them.
But this place? This looks like a resort. Or at least, what I imagine a resort would look like based on all of the commercials that air in Phoenix about the fancy places to stay in the area.
The room is a large circle with high ceilings and massive windows overlooking the marina outside. There are several dozen round tops covered in fine cloth and set for eight with a million knives and forks that I’m going to need to ask Lucas for help with. A small jazz band plays to the left of a stage, where a podium is set up in front of the windows.
It almost feels like dining in a fish bowl.
My eyes are still searching for Lucas when they connect with a pair of beautiful browns that I can’t believe I’m seeing here.
His mouth drops open, mirroring mine. But where I stand still, shocked, Pier Guy moves quickly, heading in my direction.
“Okay seriously, are you stalking me?” I ask, laughing awkwardly. “Because I thought you were joking earlier.”
He shakes his head, that charming smile coming back to play. “I wish I was,” he says, his eyes raking me up and down in disbelief, clearly as surprised to see me as I am to see him. “My mother is a member and I’m escorting her and my sister tonight.”
The way he saysescortingmakes me take notice of something I hadn’t seen before.
When I met him last night, he was wearing a biker jacket and dusty boots. This morning he was in jeans and a Henley. He’d looked like just a regular guy you could meet anywhere.
Standing in front of me now, he’s wearing a suit. One that fits his body perfectly. His hair, where it was slightly shaggy this morning, now sits tucked back under product. A flashy watch rests on his left wrist.
Pier Guy is a money guy. Part of the world Lucas inhabits. If I had to wager a guess, I’d bet they might even know each other. And for some reason, that disappoints me.
I nod slowly. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around this evening, then.”
When I start to walk away, he moves to grasp my wrist.
I spin quickly and yank my hand out of his reach. It always saddens me, how quickly I’ve learned to side-step a man’s touch. The knee-jerk reaction is fairly normal for me. But I guess that just comes with the territory.
He lifts both hands up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He lets out an awkward laugh, drops one hand and rubs his face with the other. “I thought you were joking this morning. About the harassment. But were you serious? I’m not trying to bother you, I swear.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m sorry. I just…” I glance away, not finishing my sentence. I wring my hands together, my body feeling uncooperative. How do you explain to someone that your reactions are based on something that has nothing to do with them?
“Look,” he says, stepping closer. “I don’t know you. I don’t even know your name. But I do know that since we met yesterday, you’ve been on my mind constantly. And it felt like seeing you again this morning, and now a third time, here of all places… I don’t know.” He tucks his hands in his pockets, and the move strikes me as somewhat submissive. Something that Pier Guy isn’t used to being. “But if you want me to, I’ll leave you alone.”
“No, don’t…” I clear my throat, embarrassed that I responded so quickly, a flush creeping up my neck. Then, with a soft laugh, I say, “I mean, you don’t have to leave me alone.”
He smiles at me, and this one is tender. So different than the wolfish ones he’s been giving me so far.
Maybe he was right this morning. Maybe it is kismet or a meet-cute or whatever else fate has in store for us.
Pier Guy really is incredibly handsome, and when he looks at me the way he is right now, there’s this weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. A pulsing, beating thing, like my heart is pumping too quickly.
Maybe I misjudged him earlier.
It’s the one thing I don’t want anyone here to do with me…assume.And I’m guilty of it first.
Before we say anything else, his sister… Ivy? …approaches us and taps Pier Guy’s arm.
It’s almost time to sit. You coming?she asks.
He looks at me, then down at her, looking conflicted. Even though I’d like to keep talking to him, I also remember her comment this morning about wanting to spend time with her brother.
