A throat is cleared and Cruise says, “Hey Sara Jane, what brings you around?”
Alexander spins in his chair and when he sees me, he stands up, looking all kinds of guilty. “Hey, Firefly.” Taking me by the upper arms, he brings me in for a kiss. It feels like a distraction from the phone call, but I don’t want to lay into him right off the bat. After all, trust is a two-way street.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you today, so I wanted to stop by and see if you wanted to grab dinner before I have to meet up for my group project.”
“Yes,” he replies, grabbing his suit jacket from the hook of his cubicle wall. His eyes hit Cruise, a silent message exchanged.
Something’s going on, and I’m about to find out. “Do you need to wrap up or anything?”
“Nope. Let’s go.”
When he turns to shut down his computer, Cruise takes a call. I look around at the employees on the phone, closing up for the day. But then my eyes meet the ones I’ve tried to forget. Mr. Kingwood stands in his office, glass dividing us, and stares straight at me. His hand comes up in a small wave before I look away. “I can wait out in reception if you need more time.”
“No, I’m ready.” Alexander peeks back at me and smiles again. I dare to glance up one more time. This time his father is gone, and I release a breath in relief.
“Are you okay?” Alexander is staring at me, looking concerned. I can tell from the way he searches my eyes, he knows something is up. But he drops it. His hand covers my lower back and guides me toward the door. “Talk later, Cruise,” he says as we pass.
“Later.”
16
Alexander
I thought we’d make it to the restaurant before the barrage of questions hit, but I should have known better. With Firefly, there’s never just one. “Where are you going at nine?”
“It’s good to see you, too.”
She laughs. It’s light, but I’ll take it. “I’m sorry.” She wraps herself around me, and I put my arm around her. “It’s good to see you.” Lifting up on her toes, she kisses my neck. “Now where are you going at nine sharp?”
“You really shouldn’t eavesdrop on people’s private calls.”
“I wasn’t. You were speaking loud enough to be heard from where I was standing. Now stop evading and answer the question.”
When the elevator dings, I escort her, leading her to the car. “If you really want to know, I’m meeting a drug dealer from the lower four quarters who apparently sold to a woman I met the other day. When Cruise saw her today she remembered this guy once used to work for some Kingwood execs.”
“And what do you expect to learn from this meeting?” We reach her car and the alarm clicks off. I open the door for her, but before she gets in her expression changes. It’s different, a shrewdness knotted in her brows adding to the expectations building between us. She leans against the car and turns to me. “I’m a part of this now, Alexander. I want to know where you go and who you’re meeting. I want to know everything.”
I touch her cheek, searching for signs to see just how serious she is. “I never thought you’d accept this so readily.”
“I haven’t, but you have, and I support you.”
“That simple?”
“No, completely convoluted and complex, but I know you’re doing this so that means I’m doing it.”
“Remember when I said I’m in too deep?”
“Yeah.”
Kissing her, I let my lips remain long after and then whisper, “So are you.”
She leans back to look in my eyes. Touching my cheek, she replies, “I always was.”
When I get into the car, the need to touch her is too strong to deny. I reach over and take her hand. Bringing it to my lips, I kiss the top. “I want you to move in.”
“Alexander—”
“I’m only asking that you think about it. You’re there most nights anyway.”
“We’ve been here before.”
“You weren’t quite twenty last time.”
“Alexander.”
“Please consider it.”
Her gaze disappears like her hand from mine. “I don’t know about the manor.”
“We can look around for a new place if you want. It’s not about the manor, it’s about me.”
She’s quick, her eyes pleading like her words, “I would for you. I would do anything for you. Haven’t I proven that already?”
“You have, but you don’t have to prove anything to me, Firefly. You’re here, and that’s enough if that’s all I get. But please know I want more with you.”
The add-on at the end makes her smile. “I want more with you too. I promise I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I can ask. Oh, except, what do you want for dinner?”
“I’m thinking Italian food.”
“Your wish is my command.”
At the restaurant, I love when she orders with big eyes and a hearty appetite. It’s entertaining watching her scarf pasta down like someone’s going to steal it from her. “So good,” she moans in pleasure.
The sound does things to me, my body awakening for her. “It was good, but not as delicious as you. I think I’ll have you as a midnight snack later.”
“Are you ever not horny?” She bumps her shoe against mine under the table.
“Not when it comes to you.”
“I hope you always feel that way.”
“I have no doubt I will. You get more delectable with each birthday.”
Her fork is set down, and she sighs with an amused grin. “You know how to work me over too easily. I need new tricks.”
“Your tricks are fine. I just know you.”
The plate is pushed away. Resting her chin on her anchored arm, she smiles. “What’s my favorite color?”
“Blue, like my eyes,” I reply with a wink.
She rolls hers. “What’s my favorite movie?”
“The Notebook because you like sappy love stories where the protagonist dies.”
Sitting back, she laughs. “What’s my dream car?”
“A black Range Rover. Loaded—sunroof, automatic, Bluetooth, leather seats, dark tinted windows. I’m batting a thousand.”
“You’re not doing too shabs.” Her tone turns more serious. “Where’s my favorite place?”
Shit. My mind searches for the correct answer, but I’m left with nothing, so I try for charming her. “In my bed?”
She shakes her head. “I love it there, but I was thinking of somewhere else.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“No. I think despite all that we’ve learned about you lately, it’s good for me to have a few secrets of my own.”
“So you’re going to keep it from me?”
“No, I just want us to get to know each other again. Do more than have sex and eat dinner together.”
“I’m quite partial to those,” I say, reaching over and taking her hand.
“Me too, but you’ll find out where I go when you need to know.”
“I think you like having secrets.”
“Don’t we all?” She pushes away from the table. “I need to get going. I’m already going to be late.”
In the car, holding hands with her reminds me of more innocent times. We used to do this a lot, and I’d almost forgotten. When did life become so hard?