The Forever Girl

Good—right to the point. “She didn’t say why you left me, but she told me more than enough.”

 

 

He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t seem surprised.”

 

“I’m trying not to think about it,” I said. “Why didn’t you say you knew her?”

 

“I wasn’t concerned with her while dancing with you.” His gaze lifted, grazing over my body to settle on my face, and my stomach fluttered in response. He grinned. “You’re blushing.”

 

Thanks for pointing that out.

 

I picked a menu from behind the napkin holder and pretended to read, trying to ignore the increased warmth in my cheeks. “Hungry?”

 

“Sorry,” he said, looking down to his own menu. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I thought if you were aware, you could stop.”

 

“Stop blushing?”

 

“Stop thinking about me that way.”

 

That was a bit straightforward. It wasn’t like I wanted to be attracted to him. “Did you already order?”

 

“I was waiting for you.” He turned to the hot beverages and side dish selections. “If I’m wrong, please, tell me otherwise.”

 

So much for changing the subject. “I recall the attraction was mutual,” I said with all the confidence I could muster. Which wasn’t much.

 

He smirked, lifting his eyes to mine, and a shiver trembled down my spine, straight through to my toes. “That is not why I’m here,” he said. “I’m here to ensure you receive whatever answers you need to get on with your life.”

 

One of the new waitresses, Tina, walked up. She was dark-haired and all hips with a flat tummy. Everyone at the diner—customers and employees alike—loved her. She served two tall glasses of iced water with two straws. “Know what you want?”

 

She wasn’t really asking us. Just him. Charles nodded toward me. “Ladies, first.”

 

Tina’s shoulders sagged as she turned to face me. “Well?”

 

Unable to think, I ordered coffee, then I started folding the straw for my water into a tiny plastic accordion—anything to get her questioning gaze off me. I know! I don’t drink coffee! Everyone who worked at the diner for more than five minutes knew that. I was starting to think Jack had made it part of the training. Over here, you’ll find the silverware. And, if you look to the left, you’ll see Sophia. She doesn’t drink coffee.

 

“I thought you don’t—” she began.

 

“Coffee,” I said firmly, glaring at her. No wonder people in town thought I was crazy.

 

With a shake of her head, she turned to Charles, who ordered his coffee in a tone of voice much lighter than the one he used with me.

 

When Tina was out of earshot, I lifted my gaze to Charles.

 

“About the other night…”

 

Charles plunked his straw into his water. “The less I tell you, the better.”

 

Better for who? “You left me.”

 

He placed one of his hands over both of mine. I’m sure he meant it to be calming, like trying to relax a child on the verge of a tantrum, but instead his touch sent tingles up my arms.

 

“I didn’t leave,” he said.

 

Tina returned, and Charles released my hands. She poured two fresh cups of coffee and set a dish of creamers between us. I tapped my foot under the table. Hurry up!

 

“Let me know if you need anything else.” She waited expectantly, staring at Charles, who busied himself stirring his coffee.

 

“That’s all,” I said. “Thanks.”

 

She continued staring at Charles, smiling. “Are you sure?”

 

He looked up. “We’re fine, thank you.”

 

She frowned and headed back to the kitchen.

 

At least I wasn’t the only one hopelessly attracted to him.

 

Charles cleared his throat. “Sophia,” he whispered. “Stop staring at that poor girl.”

 

“Tina?” How was she a ‘poor girl’?

 

“Why are you staring at her?”

 

“I wasn’t. She was staring at you.” I immediately regretted my catty remark.

 

Teal eyes, dark beneath the shadow of his tangled eyelashes, centered on me. A smile crept onto his face. “You’re jealous.”

 

“I’m not. I just…noticed.”

 

“She doesn’t hold a candle to you, if that makes you feel better.”

 

I was so not talking to him about this. “This isn’t why we’re here.”

 

“Of course it isn’t.” Something in his tone suggested he was mocking me.

 

He wrapped his hands around the ceramic mug and rubbed his thumb across its smooth surface. My gaze drifted to his forearm, to the way his muscles flexed each time he moved, but I forced my attention back to his face.

 

I needed to stay focused. “You were going to tell me about why you abandoned me in the woods.”

 

“I didn’t,” he said. “I changed.”

 

“You changed?” I lowered my voice to a harsh whisper. “What? Your clothes? That’s your excuse? You better be joking.”

 

“I’m an elemental.” He spoke quietly enough. Even if anyone else had been in the diner, they wouldn’t have heard.

 

Or had a clue what he was talking about.

 

I blinked and pulled back. “You’re one of the Cruor?”

 

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