Page 110 of Sinners Atone
Something dangerous simmers in his gaze.
He nods once. “Good.”
“Good.”
We stare at each other, tension hanging between us like smoke, growing thicker with every second.
I don’t dare blink.
Not when my eyes start to water, nor when the restaurant door opens, and icy air brushes up my spine.
Not even when David calls out my name.
“Enjoy your date,” Gabriel murmurs. His voice is smooth, but there’s an edge to it, sharp and surgical.
Though my insides turn in on themselves, I refuse to flinch. “Oh, I will,” I say as sweetly as I can muster. “It’s going to be ablast.”
I turn on my heel and stalk toward David, trepidation vibrating in my knees. He lights up when he sees me, grin broad and eyes roaming.
“Wren! Wow, you look…” He shakes his head so hard the flowers in his hand tremble. “Just, wow.”
I plaster on my widest smile. “Thank you, David. It’ssonice to see you again,” I chime, too jittery and loud for such a fancy restaurant. “You look just as handsome as I remember.”
It’s not a lie, it’s a polite stretching of the truth. I’m sure he looks fine, but I can barely see him through the searing heat on my back.
He presses the bouquet into my hand, mumbling through an apology about being late. Then we follow the hostess to our table, under Gabriel’s watchful eye.
Something stubborn suddenly knots between my shoulder blades.
You know what? If he wants a first-row seat to the show, I’ll give him an Oscar-worthy performance.
Sliding into the chair feels like I’m stepping on stage without knowing my lines. My spine’s rigid, my skin’s blistering, but my smile is unwavering. How hard can flirting be? I’ve watched enough rom-coms in my time to figure it out.
I rest my chin on my hand and gaze up at David, trying to ignore the ominous shadow bleeding out from behind his shoulders.
“You know, I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”
He blinks up from the menu. “Really?”
“Uh-huh. I even bought a new outfit.” I bite my lip and rake my fingers through my hair, like Meg Ryan inWhen Harry Met Sally.“Do you like it?”
He glances down at my dress, which has been stuffed in the back of my closest for over a year. “Sure, it’s beautiful. It’s very…” He licks his lips, searching for the appropriate adjective. “Pink.”
I throw my head back and laugh like Julia Robert’s inPretty Womanwhen Richard Gere snaps the jewelry box on her fingers. “Oh, David. I’d forgotten how funny you are.”
He flashes me a look of concern. “Are you okay?”
Dragging the napkin into my lap with a tight fist, I smile so hard it hurts. “You know what, David? I’ve never been better.”
We order drinks. He says me drinking lemonade makes me a cheap date.
I giggle like I understand the joke.
Then he tells me about his job. His Sunday soccer league. I nearly burn my wrist on the candle, reaching over to stroke his arm when he tells me, with a rueful look in his eye, that if it weren’t for his knee injury, he would have gone pro.
I nod, smile, and laugh in all the right places. Bat my eyelashes and twirl my hair. I even try to speak in a breathy Marilyn Monroe voice at one point but drop it after the fifth time he asks me to repeat myself.
Because if he can’t hear me, then Gabriel definitely can’t.
