CHAPTER TWO— I DIDN'T STOP
721 Words
My gaze followed him. I didn’t move.
Lydia kept glancing toward the door, like she expected me to follow. I didn’t. He had already started walking, certain I would follow. I watched him, then looked back at Lydia. She was already watching me.
“Don’t,” she said.
That should have been enough. “I’ll be back.”
Her brows tightened. “No, you won’t.”
“I will.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I’m not going far.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It’s just a walk.”
She didn’t believe me. I turned.
He didn’t look back. I had to quicken my pace to catch him, heels marking the floor, sharper than I meant them to be. The sound faded the further we went, swallowed by distance.
He stopped at a table and picked up a drink. I slowed as I reached him, stopping beside him.
His eyes dropped to my hand. “Finished?”
I followed his gaze. The glass was empty. I didn’t remember finishing it. “Oh.”
He picked up another and held it out.
I hesitated, then took it. “Thanks.”
He nodded.
I drank. Stronger than before.
“You don’t talk much,” I said.
He glanced at me. “You do.”
My jaw tightened. “I don’t.”
“You are.”
“That’s different.”
His eyes stayed on me. He didn’t press it. I drank again, slower. “Do you always come to places like this?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Work.”
“That sounds boring.”
“It is.”
A smile slipped through anyway. “At least you don’t pretend.”
“I don’t see the point.”
I rolled the glass between my fingers. “I almost didn’t come.”
“But you did.”
“My friend forced me.”
His gaze stayed steady. “Then I owe her.”
I looked down at the glass. “She wanted us gone.”
I finished it without thinking, then set it down. The air felt warm against my skin.
“I don’t like places like this,” I said.
“Why?”
“Everyone’s careful. Like they’re trying not to get it wrong.”
“And you?”
“I guess not.”
His eyes didn’t leave me. “You don’t look like someone who doesn’t care.”
I exhaled slowly, forcing my voice to stay even. “You don’t know me.”
“No.” He held my gaze. “Not yet.”
“Exactly.”
The noise around us pressed closer. I shifted my weight. “I need air.”
I turned, and he followed a step behind, unbothered.
Outside, the air was colder against my skin. It didn’t change anything. I stepped onto the balcony and gripped the railing.
“You didn’t have to follow me,” I said.
“I know.”
I glanced back. “Then why did you?”
He stopped a few steps away. “You’re not steady.”
“I am.”
“You’re not.”
I turned. “You don’t even know me.”
“No,” he said. “But I can read you.”
Something in his certainty tightened my jaw. “Do you say that to everyone?”
“No.”
“Good. It’s annoying.”
I pushed off the railing too fast. My footing slipped. His hand caught my arm. Firm. Immediate.
I froze.
He steadied me without pulling me in.
“You’re not fine,” he said.
“I am.”
It came out thinner than I meant. His hand stayed a moment longer. Neither of us moved back. The space between us held, unmoving.
My gaze dropped before I could stop it, to his mouth. A mistake. When I looked up, he was already watching me. My fingers curled into his shirt.
I closed the distance.
He didn’t move at first. Then his hand settled at my waist, steady, holding me there without pulling me closer.
I broke it first. “This is a bad idea,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Then why aren’t you stopping me?”
His eyes stayed on mine. “Do you want me to?”
I didn’t answer.
I stepped closer again.
- Writer
