Blyss
“Pizza and salad, mostly,” was my reply to Troy when he asked me what I ate most of the time. I had difficulty picking out something from the menu of the hotel restaurant he chose.
“I’ll order for both of us. Don’t worry, I won’t make it anything too weird.” He gave me a smile, and I put the menu away as he looked at our waiter. “Two steaks, medium rare, baked potatoes, broccoli, and your best Merlot.”
“I will get that ordered for you and Svetlana will bring your appetizers shortly.” The waiter left us, and I was left wondering how an entire glass of wine would affect me.
“I’ve never had any alcohol. Well, that’s not entirely true. I’ve had one medium-sized sip of red wine. Nothing more than that.”
The way his hand moved over mine was comforting, as was the soft gaze he gave me.
