Page 6 of Chaos (Deathstalkers MC)
I walk out of my room ready for my date, and elicit whistles as I walk through the main room. I can feel his eyes on me as I avoid his gaze. We are going to dinner so I have a short black dress on that stops at mid-thigh and shows off just the right amount of cleavage. My long blonde hair is curled and hanging low.
I would never have Randy pick me up here so I told him I would meet him at the restaurant. The last thing I need is the boys scaring him off. As I’m about to open the door, a large body stands in front of me. I don’t need to look up at his face to know it’s Torch. “Can I help you?”
“Trust me when I say you want to rephrase that question, princess.” His deep voice rumbles close to my ear.
I take a breath to steady my voice and my nerves. “What do you want?”
“That question ain’t much better.” His hand rests on my hip and my skin catches fire.
I want to lean into him. My body is trying to move as my mind fights it to stay put. “You need to get out of my way.” My voice shakes, not as confident as the other two times.
I hear a small chuckle from him before he steps to the side. Pushing the door open, I can hear his footsteps behind me. Once I sit in my car, I take another deep breath.Calm down. You got this. You want this.
I pull out of the lot and head to dinner. No matter how much I fight it, I can’t help but look back at my shadow following me. The sight of him on his bike, his cut contrasting against the blue sky behind us makes me want to forget all my reservations and fears.
The restaurant is some fancy French place whose name I don’t even want to try and say because I know I’ll sound like an idiot. I walk into the lobby to see Randy waiting for me. At least Torch can’t follow me in here. He would definitely stand out like a sore thumb. All the women are wearing formal dresses, the guys in dress jackets. I have never been to a place like this, and truthfully I feel as out of place as Torch would look. I feel like an imposter.
The hostess walks us back to our red velvet covered table, pouring us both a glass of wine and water before retreating with a small smile. Looking around I can’t help but be taken aback. The restaurant is draped in shades of gold and red. Each table perfectly set; the silver and white settings not an inch out of place. All of the people speaking softly, eating with the best manners possible.
“Everything okay?” Randy asks me and I look across the table at him. He’s wearing a navy button up shirt, his mid length hair slicked back.
I nod. “Just taking in the scenery.”
Needing a distraction, I open the menu. Holy shit. It’s all in French. Not just the names of the dishes, even the damn descriptions. How bad would it be if I pulled up a translator on my phone? I never told him I spoke French, the shit should be illegal. I mean why can’t they help the stupid people out and at least give us a hint or maybe a glossary to at least say what the hell chicken means in French. I kind of wish that we were somewhere normal, somewhere I can relax.
I walk into the kitchen to see Torch making himself a sandwich. “Want one?” He looks up at me.
I scan the counter looking at the endless amount of supplies he is piling on the roll. “Sure, but I don’t know if I’m down for having the whole fridge on it.”
“That’s just because you don’t know how good it is.” He starts to methodically build my sandwich the same way he does his. “Sometimes you have to open up to trying something new and before you know it, you might just be addicted to it.” The plate slides in front of me and I look up to meet his gaze. He raises his eyebrow at me and I’m getting a feeling that he’s talking about more than just trying out his sandwich.
He’s been flirting with me more lately and as much as I enjoy it, I can’t let myself go there. “Thanks.” I grab the plate needing to put some space between us.
Once I get out of the kitchen, I lift the monstrous sandwich to my mouth. Taking as big of a bite as I can manage, I let out an involuntary groan because it really is that good.
“Told you that you’d like it.” I look back and see him leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. “Maybe you should try some other things. Never know what else might make your toes curl.” He smiles and I swear it hits me right in my core.
I practically run away from him, if I’m not careful he is going to get me into trouble.
The waiter comes to the table snapping me out of my daydream, and I look up at him ready to make a complete ass out of myself. “Good evening. Would you like to hear tonight’s specials?”
I’d say yes but I’m going to guess that they’ll be in French too.
“That’s not necessary. We already know what we are having,” Randy answers him. He begins to rattle off a bunch of words that sound like gibberish to me. The waiter nods and smiles before walking away. For all I know he could have told him to feed me a steaming plate of cow testicles and I’d have no idea.
Part of me appreciates that he ordered because I know there is no way I would have been able to. The other part is irritated because he just treated me like I wasn’t even here. He doesn’t know if I have allergies, or am a picky eater. My head is starting to hurt with all the thoughts swirling through it.
“Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” I stand up heading toward the bathrooms. I need some air.
I take a few minutes to calm down and convince myself that this is normal and normal is what I want, what I need.
On the way back from the bathroom, I pass the large window by the front of the restaurant. Torch is standing there. He is just looking at me. His eyes staring holes through me.
I hold his gaze for a moment before he licks his lips.
I snap out of the hold he had on me going back to our table. I try to carry on a conversation with Randy at dinner but I can’t stop thinking of Torch outside. Not one of the guys I’ve dated has ever made me feel half of what Torch does with just one look.
I need to forget about him, somehow.
