The Things She Says(49)
“A get-together with some people I know.”
“Sounds fun. Oh, look, here’s dinner.”
Gratefully, she released his hand and sat back to give the waiter access. She picked up her fork and dug into the main course, with no idea what it was.
Kris was still planning to end it with her and leave in a few days. Instead of breaking down his barriers, she’d screwed up and added one more. Whatever progress she’d made had been thoroughly erased the moment she dropped the L word.
Grief pulled at her mouth. She was waiting in vain for the moment when things would come together because her math skills clearly left a lot to be desired. None of this was working. He’d opened up and all that amazing passion discharged like a crackle of lightning, just as she’d known it would. But it was strictly one-way. A release of energy, not a significant encounter that caused him to reevaluate.
As soon as the waiter was out of earshot, she fell back on the tried-and-true method to regain her equilibrium. If he wanted fun, fun he’d get, at least until she figured out how to turn one and one into two. “What’s the wildest place you’ve ever had sex?”
He grinned and the tension was gone, at least as far as he knew. It was still there, across the back of her neck and racing through her mind as she tried to reconcile the very different agendas playing out on the field of their relationship.
“You mean someplace other than in the shower with you earlier?” His fork disappeared into his mouth.
She had bricks in her chest and he was eating.
“Yeah, that doesn’t count.”
“Sorry, that was so good, it erased my memory. Can I tell you how unbelievably hot it is that you’re ready to go again within minutes?”
“It’s all in the wrist.”
He was being purposely evasive, too much the gentleman to flaunt his experience with other women. Of course it made her love him that much more. How could they be on such different pages?
“What about you?” he asked with a lifted chin. “Other than the shower. Wildest place.”
“The couch.”
He toasted her with his wineglass. “We’ll have to remedy that. Pick a place. Any place. I find myself fond of being your guinea pig.”
“Hood of the car.” Really, she couldn’t even think about this now.
He winced. “You mean the Ferrari?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You got another one?”
“The Ferrari belongs to Kyla. I’m dropping it off to her tonight, so maybe you should pick another place. Why are you grinning like that?”
The Ferrari wasn’t Kris’s. The thought thrilled her. The final piece of the puzzle clicked into place—the engine inside his head wasn’t complex and foreign after all. She knew Kristian Demetrious, and therefore, she knew better than to believe the lies he told himself. He was falling back on old habits of denying his feelings because...well, she didn’t know exactly why he did it but that didn’t change the facts. She hadn’t misread him or tripped up by confessing her feelings.
He thought he was leaving in a few days. And she was going to change his mind.
One more big push, and he’d never leave her because he would realize they were meant to be together forever.
Eleven
The driving beat, audible even outside the club, thumped against VJ’s ribs as Kris led her past the crowd lined up between red ropes and to an unmarked door around the side.
“Secret VIP entrance?” she asked.
“Something like that.”
Kris nodded to the doorman, who pushed open the door, and Kris took her hand as she crossed the threshold into another world of thick smoke and strafing lights. People were everywhere, three deep at the bar, crushed together on the dance floor. All of them reeked of money.
“Am I allowed to be a little starstruck?” she shouted over the music and tightened her grip on Kris’s hand so she couldn’t fiddle with her hair or dress again. No one was going to notice her anyway, not with a Greek god casting her into shadow.
“No. They’re just people,” he said shortly.
All his answers had been short since they’d gotten into the car after dinner, including when he told her Kyla would be at the club and yes, it would be awkward. Unfortunately, so far, he’d been the one making it awkward with his odd aloofness. Inaccessible Kristian Demetrious was not her favorite companion.
Thankfully she’d worn the black dress last night so she could wear the red one tonight. It was calf-length with a Jezebel slit up the center. All the way up. Any higher and she’d be arrested for indecency. Dozens of glittery straps zigzagged across her bust and torso, then around to her back, allowing a lot of bare skin to peek through. All she needed now was the devil’s pitchfork and some horns, but at least she looked her best and it bolstered her confidence.