What's wrong with me?
Heat seared her cheeks as she stood there, almost unable to move. Thankfully she tore herself away just enough to clear the empty booth next to Rhys’ table. His eyes rested on her the entire time. She didn't have to turn to see them. His gaze was so strong it pierced her between the shoulder blades with the precision of a laser.
After she cleared the table off and deposited the dishes in the kitchen, Sky continued down the hallway. The back door was propped open to the small covered area where the staff went to take their smoke breaks. Sky didn't smoke, but she needed a minute to herself out there.
Rhys' presence left her confused and disoriented. She couldn't figure out why either. Leaving such a large tip the last time seemed eerily like a proposition for sex. Yet tonight as he spoke to her, he gave her another impression entirely.
Or could Rhys just be that suave?
Sky leaned against the outer wall and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She wished Joleen were at work so she could get her friend's take on the guy. Joleen only had a few shifts every week now that her jewelry business devoured much of her time.
Swiping open the phone to the text screen Sky started typing out a message to Joleen, but then stopped. It would be a lot to explain in a couple of text messages. She’d wait until they had some alone time together to have a chat about Rhys. Maybe when they were packing up pendant orders that weekend. The one thing Sky knew was her head was all in shambles. Having someone else lend some objectivity would be good.
Sky tugged on her bun. She'd put her hair up again and it was giving her another headache. Or maybe that was how Rhys’ chat left her.
She pulled the door open and headed inside, certain that patrons from one or two tables were probably about ready to cash out. She messed with her hair as she went, staring at the ground while she retied it.
“Sky,” a familiar voice said as she was about to step into the ladies room to wash her hands.
She stopped in her tracks. Rhys stood in the hallway, perhaps on his way to the men's room. Or maybe he had been looking for her.
“Looking for something?” she slowly asked.
“I’ve already found what I’m looking for.”
God, the man was smooth.
No one else was in the hall. The kitchen staff was busy getting a head start on cleaning and the other waitresses were probably doing the same up front.
Rhys hovered only a couple feet away. A mixture of spices floated off of him, hinting at musky vanilla, cinnamon and something floral and masculine. Sky swallowed hard. She'd never known she was so partial to the smell of cinnamon.
Rhys took a small step forward and Sky froze. Would he try and kiss her? A better question was would she be able to resist?
I have a boyfriend, she thought about saying. I love him.
Except it was only half true. She loved Brock, yet he was not quite serious enough to have firmed up the boyfriend part.
Thankfully Rhys didn't kiss her. His mouth stopped an inch away from her ear. Hot air from between his lips caressed the side of her neck. Sky struggled to keep it together. “I wish I could show you what I see when I look at you. You're something special, Miss Sky. I would love the opportunity to show you just how much.”
He took a step back, his gaze anchored on hers while she stood there, breathless and heady with her panties soaked. Could he tell what that brief interaction had done to her?
If so, it didn't show on his face. Rhys turned and disappeared back into the dining room. Sky waited a minute before going out. She needed the distance. In fact, she had half a mind to just ask Crystal to drop the check off at his table. Screw his demand to only be waited on by one person. His booth was empty when she returned. Sky took a quick look around the restaurant. Rhys Dillon had slipped away, just like the time before. Mostly relieved, Sky went to his table. His business card was there again. She hadn't thrown the first one away, but of course he didn't know.
Under the card was the money to pay for the drink... plus a tip. A one thousand dollar tip. All cash. Sky ran her thumb over the small stack. Ten fresh one hundred dollar bills. She jammed them into her apron and collapsed into the seat Rhys had been sitting in.
His words from the hallway replayed in her mind, followed quickly by every single word he had said to her tonight. Sky swiftly shut her eyes. She could still feel his breath on the side of her neck, the way it ignited her skin as he spoke. She was attracted to the man. There was no denying it. Suddenly her usual self-talk and conflicted indecision about having Brock in her life seemed so paltry. After all, just how long could she be expected to wait around for him for? She didn't even understand the reason for his commitment phobia. She had known and wanted him for years, and it could be years before he decided to make a move.
If ever.
Sky ran her hand along the card, fingering the printed digits of Rhys' telephone number.
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