Addiction

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

The guy was every girl's dream – dark brooding good looks and if she'd guessed correctly, his body was well maintained. She felt herself drift into daydreams as she avoided his hot stare. What would it feel like to dance with him? She imagined fireworks and sunsets, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, and at the end of it all, a sizzling kiss. Oh, my.

She didn't even know his name and here she was having romantic notions about him. Surely he would catch the gist of her thoughts from the burning of her cheeks. She both wanted to leave the table and scoot closer to him in equal measures. Holy-hot-boy, he had a great smile. Instant attraction bloomed in her stomach and lower, she felt things she'd only ever felt when watching TV and a particularly steamy love scene was aired.

She had to get herself under control if she was to dance with him, especially since she knew the music would start up directly after their meal. Leaning back and allowing the server to place a bowl of steaming soup in front of her, she silently prayed that she wouldn't make a fool of herself by dribbling it all down her front. This was the first time in her life that she was the subject of a hot-boy's hot-stares and she was relishing the attention, even as she was clueless as to what to do with it.

Another server filled her glass with golden bubbling champagne and before they'd moved on, she downed the entire glass in one go, holding it out to be refilled once more. The server – a guy she recognized as belonging to her school – gave her an odd look, before twitching an eyebrow, but he refilled her glass, and Sophie was grateful. The champagne seemed to settle her nerves a little, but every time the guy glanced in her direction, she felt like she needed to pee. Either that, or the bubbly was going right through her.

The second course was a selection of hors d'oeuvres, among which was a small portion of escargot, which she'd discovered a love for on a trip to France with her parents before her father's death of a massive heart attack, seven years previous. She daintily placed two of the snails on her plate and used a tongs to hold the shell as she dug inside with her fork. The first snail departed its shell with ease, the garlic flavor bursting on her tongue.

“Yuck!” Seven year old Maisy made a face as Sophie chewed and swallowed. “That's a snail.”

“Mmhmm,” Sophie agreed. “Tasty snails.”

“Yuck,” the girl reiterated, sticking her tongue out.

With a laugh, Sophie grasped the second one with her tongs, finding it more difficult to remove from its shell. She twirled and pulled a little harder and in fascinated horror, watched as it flung itself off her fork, sailed through the air like a tiny space-ship and landed with a plink in the hot-boy's water glass. To make matters worse, he had just raised his glass for a sip and got a face full of snail water for his troubles. “Oh, God,” Sophie groaned, feeling her face burn like the fires of hell. “Kill me now.”

Hot-boy wiped the water from his face with a napkin, before digging around in his water glass for the offending piece of meat. He winked at her before plopping it straight into his mouth.

Sophie didn't know whether to be offended that he ate her snail, or thrilled – he ate her snail! – and so settled for crossing her arms with a soft scowl, while still blushing. “Tasty,” he agreed, his gaze drifting to her jacked-up cleavage. “Very tasty.”

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