King of Hearts
Page 78
“My treat,” I said as I steered him in the direction of a small bistro.
He didn’t protest, but I got the sense that he wasn’t too thrilled about me paying. Neither one of us was dressed fancy. I wore a cream knit top, pale blue jeans, and ballet flats. King wore a work shirt and khaki combats. But the bistro was a casual affair, so it didn’t matter. A waitress led us to a small nook at the back and handed us each a menu. I scanned down the list.
“The roast chicken looks good,” I said, and was met with silence.
King was looking around the room, clearly uncomfortable. I didn’t have to ask to know it had been a long time since he’d eaten in a restaurant. The waitress came back to take our drinks order. King seemed overwhelmed, so I hooked my foot around his ankle under the table for a second as a show of solidarity. It seemed to comfort him a little, but the waitress was still waiting for his order and he wasn’t talking. In the end, I ordered two Cokes and told her she could put us down for two of the roast chicken dinners as well.
King seemed relieved after she left, glancing at me and muttering a quiet, “Thanks.”
“She was being pushy, if you ask me,” I joked to try to make him feel less uncomfortable. “So,” I continued casually, “Lille and Jack invited us to go out with them next Saturday night.”
His brows drew together. “Out where?”
“I’m not sure. Probably to dinner and a show or something. It could be fun,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. I didn’t want him to know how desperately I needed him to say yes.
“Do you want me to go?”
I nudged him with my foot. “Of course I do.”
“I’ll go then, if I’m feeling well enough.”
My heart soared. He’d said yes. We were going on a date. It was a little sad how deliriously happy that made me. “Lille told me you went to see a doctor today.”
King nodded and stared down at the menu, where his fingers fiddled with the edge of the paper. “I’m taking some medicines, and I haven’t had a drink since two days ago. I’m still not over the worst of it, but I don’t want to go back. It feels like it’s either win or lose at this stage.”
What he said surprised me, since I hadn’t even been certain he wanted to give up. “The other day you said you weren’t sure you wanted to quit, but you seemed determined now.”
His eyes flared meaningfully. “I’m trying.”
“All you can do is try,” I said, giving him a warm smile, remembering how he’d told me something similar years ago.
He smiled back, sending my hopeful little heart into overdrive. We sat side by side in our nook, the restaurant noises surrounding us. “Maybe in a week or so, do you think you’d like to see your mum?” I asked tentatively.
He cleared his throat, coughing a little. “Yes,” he nodded. “I just need some more time to…get better.”
“I can understand that,” I said, glancing up at him. I’m not sure why, but there was something in his eyes then that held mine captive.
He leaned the tiniest fraction closer, and whispered so that no one else could hear, “I dreamt of you last night.”
Twenty
“You did?” I replied, my voice more air than sound.
“I think it was something about having you close, your smell, your warmth. We were sleeping just the same, but we were skin to skin.” His hand drifted across the table to mine, his fingers covering my fingers. I shivered, my throat growing tight with need. He stared at me so intently that I became self-conscious. It wasn’t often that someone looked at you like they were seeing every piece that was on the surface, as well as every piece that lay beneath.
Almost instinctively, my head drifted towards his, mere centimetres between our mouths.
“Don’t stop,” I breathed.
“You were beneath me, all soft and languid. I ran my hands from here,” he said, and touched a finger lightly to my temple before moving it down the side of my face, along my neck and chest until he reached the rise of my bosom. “To here.”
I let out a huff of a breath. “Is that all?”
King’s eyes sparkled as he slowly shook his head. His look, so carnal in its intensity, like he was vividly remembering the dream, got me wet. I let my head fall back against the seating, sighing heavily. “Life is so unfair.”
The very corner of his mouth quirked upwards. “How so?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, irritable and well, horny. “Don’t give me your demure little ‘how so’ — you know what exactly what I mean.”
“Alexis….” he began, his tone apologetic, but he was cut short when the waitress arrived with our meals. I didn’t know what to do – continue with the conversation or pretend it hadn’t happened? In the end I dug into my food, happy for the distraction. At least this way one of my hungers was being satisfied. King picked up his utensils and began to eat, too. There was something soothing about the quiet that ensued. It was a salve to the ache inside me that yearned for him.
When we were both finished eating, I sat back a moment, hesitating. Finally deciding to hell with it, I laid my head on his shoulder. I heard him suck in a breath at my move, but I couldn’t help it. I needed the contact. Tentatively, he lifted his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. The waitress came and asked if we’d like some dessert. I ordered a cheesecake for us to share, mainly because I wanted to prolong our time together, but also because, well, I wanted cheesecake.
He didn’t protest, but I got the sense that he wasn’t too thrilled about me paying. Neither one of us was dressed fancy. I wore a cream knit top, pale blue jeans, and ballet flats. King wore a work shirt and khaki combats. But the bistro was a casual affair, so it didn’t matter. A waitress led us to a small nook at the back and handed us each a menu. I scanned down the list.
“The roast chicken looks good,” I said, and was met with silence.
King was looking around the room, clearly uncomfortable. I didn’t have to ask to know it had been a long time since he’d eaten in a restaurant. The waitress came back to take our drinks order. King seemed overwhelmed, so I hooked my foot around his ankle under the table for a second as a show of solidarity. It seemed to comfort him a little, but the waitress was still waiting for his order and he wasn’t talking. In the end, I ordered two Cokes and told her she could put us down for two of the roast chicken dinners as well.
King seemed relieved after she left, glancing at me and muttering a quiet, “Thanks.”
“She was being pushy, if you ask me,” I joked to try to make him feel less uncomfortable. “So,” I continued casually, “Lille and Jack invited us to go out with them next Saturday night.”
His brows drew together. “Out where?”
“I’m not sure. Probably to dinner and a show or something. It could be fun,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. I didn’t want him to know how desperately I needed him to say yes.
“Do you want me to go?”
I nudged him with my foot. “Of course I do.”
“I’ll go then, if I’m feeling well enough.”
My heart soared. He’d said yes. We were going on a date. It was a little sad how deliriously happy that made me. “Lille told me you went to see a doctor today.”
King nodded and stared down at the menu, where his fingers fiddled with the edge of the paper. “I’m taking some medicines, and I haven’t had a drink since two days ago. I’m still not over the worst of it, but I don’t want to go back. It feels like it’s either win or lose at this stage.”
What he said surprised me, since I hadn’t even been certain he wanted to give up. “The other day you said you weren’t sure you wanted to quit, but you seemed determined now.”
His eyes flared meaningfully. “I’m trying.”
“All you can do is try,” I said, giving him a warm smile, remembering how he’d told me something similar years ago.
He smiled back, sending my hopeful little heart into overdrive. We sat side by side in our nook, the restaurant noises surrounding us. “Maybe in a week or so, do you think you’d like to see your mum?” I asked tentatively.
He cleared his throat, coughing a little. “Yes,” he nodded. “I just need some more time to…get better.”
“I can understand that,” I said, glancing up at him. I’m not sure why, but there was something in his eyes then that held mine captive.
He leaned the tiniest fraction closer, and whispered so that no one else could hear, “I dreamt of you last night.”
Twenty
“You did?” I replied, my voice more air than sound.
“I think it was something about having you close, your smell, your warmth. We were sleeping just the same, but we were skin to skin.” His hand drifted across the table to mine, his fingers covering my fingers. I shivered, my throat growing tight with need. He stared at me so intently that I became self-conscious. It wasn’t often that someone looked at you like they were seeing every piece that was on the surface, as well as every piece that lay beneath.
Almost instinctively, my head drifted towards his, mere centimetres between our mouths.
“Don’t stop,” I breathed.
“You were beneath me, all soft and languid. I ran my hands from here,” he said, and touched a finger lightly to my temple before moving it down the side of my face, along my neck and chest until he reached the rise of my bosom. “To here.”
I let out a huff of a breath. “Is that all?”
King’s eyes sparkled as he slowly shook his head. His look, so carnal in its intensity, like he was vividly remembering the dream, got me wet. I let my head fall back against the seating, sighing heavily. “Life is so unfair.”
The very corner of his mouth quirked upwards. “How so?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, irritable and well, horny. “Don’t give me your demure little ‘how so’ — you know what exactly what I mean.”
“Alexis….” he began, his tone apologetic, but he was cut short when the waitress arrived with our meals. I didn’t know what to do – continue with the conversation or pretend it hadn’t happened? In the end I dug into my food, happy for the distraction. At least this way one of my hungers was being satisfied. King picked up his utensils and began to eat, too. There was something soothing about the quiet that ensued. It was a salve to the ache inside me that yearned for him.
When we were both finished eating, I sat back a moment, hesitating. Finally deciding to hell with it, I laid my head on his shoulder. I heard him suck in a breath at my move, but I couldn’t help it. I needed the contact. Tentatively, he lifted his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. The waitress came and asked if we’d like some dessert. I ordered a cheesecake for us to share, mainly because I wanted to prolong our time together, but also because, well, I wanted cheesecake.
