Page 12 of Devious Eyes
“Oh, I never said I was. But I don’t smoke. And I don’t do drugs.”
“Well, I agree on the important half of that.”
We both turn to our drinks and let the conversation quieten. There’s a pull between us. Like the gentle waves pushing closer to shore, I feel myself wanting to get closer to Nate. His eyes aren’t on the vista before us. They are firmly on my body. His gaze sends a tingle of anticipation over my skin.
“Have you thought that perhaps we’re in the wrong place? Or rather we should be here with someone else?” I muse.
“Honestly, I don’t give a damn right now. Why did you pick this place if you knew you’d be alone?” Nate sits forward and rests his arms on the table, swirling his water in his hand before raising it to his lips.
“Aren’t we all looking for someone else? Something exciting?” He looks confused, his dark brow lifting at my continued musings. I giggle a little and take a sip of my drink. “It was just a last-minute decision.” Andreas might suspect what I spend my time doing, but he doesn’t know for sure. And if he’s looking for me, if anyone is looking for me, this will be the last place they’ll think of.
“Something else in common.” He tips the last of the water down his throat and raises a hand, signalling his order of another round. “Two more, not water this time.” I look him over, noting the business-like trousers and shirt.
“Well, our clothes certainly aren’t. Are you going to a meeting?”
He snorts. “Like you said, last minute.”
I smirk as the conversation stills, unsure what’s next. This drink needs some food to go with it, that’s for sure. Otherwise who knows where this is going to end.
“Have you eaten?” I ask.
“No. But they serve food here. Hell, we’d be served food wherever we asked for it. It seems nothing is too much trouble here.”
“You keep the drinks coming and I’ll arrange food.” I raise my eyebrows at him. “Deal?” He nods.
“Perfect. Just no fancy vegan crap.”
“Don’t panic. I didn’t have you down as the vegan type.” I push my chair back and stand to give him plenty of time to follow me with his eyes, turning and swaying my hips just a little more than usual as I head to the bar to talk about dinner options. Turning would spoil my assumption that Nate is watching every step I take.
* * *
Two steaks, a portion of tempura vegetables and a mango salad—the waiter delivers them to our table as Nate orders our third round of drinks. Drinking alone isn’t something I’m fond of, so indulging now is fun, but also risky. The alcohol is going right to my head. Nate, on the other hand, seems to have forgotten about water and is back to alcohol.
“So, you’re clearly American. Which part are you from?” I ask as we both slice into the juicy steaks.
“Between New York and Chicago, mainly. What about you? I can’t place your accent.”
“Oh, here and there. I grew up over the border, but I’ve been in the States since I was a teenager. Moved around since then.” The conversation isn’t awkward. It just holds that first date, stilted tone that you have to endure to get to the good stuff.
We continue to eat and weave through small talk.
“Family?” he asks.
“I’d need another night and definitely more alcohol to cover that topic.” The diversion covers a host of reasons why I don’t want to talk about my brother. He’s the only family I have, but I’m not proud to admit he’s my brother.
“That can be arranged. We’re the only two singles I’ve seen here.” He raises his glass. “To possibilities.”
“Possibilities,” I repeat, sucking my bottom lip between my teeth. The alcohol seems to be growing in strength the more I drink, and I can feel the buzz filter through my blood even with the food.
The sun has disappeared beneath the horizon, and the flickering lights of the burning lanterns illuminate the beach. Music from the bar is turned up and ramps up the atmosphere on what was a romantic and restful setting.
“Do you dance?” I ask Nate, knowing full well he doesn’t.
“No.”
“Okay.” I stand up and gently sway my hips to the beat, right in his line of sight.
My feet move back and forth, and I turn to see the bar has filled with people, all looking to enjoy their time. As I finish my rotation, I’m back facing Nate. He’s lounged back in his chair, his body telling me he’s perfectly comfortable to make this a spectator sport. Too bad I want some company.
