My feelings toward him are becoming more and more intense.
I know he’s had rosters of women; why he’d want to involve himself with me is a mystery. But he doesn’t even try to hide the desire in his eyes. And even more confusing is why I’d want to get myself involved with him, of all the guys? He’s the one that is the most difficult to understand, and impossible to control, plus why ruin a possibly good business relationship? Why ruin what could be a very healthy friendship-slash-business relationship?
Because he’s adorable when he smiles and his eyes shine a little brighter—a little more green than gold.
And when he looks at me, sometimes, as if he’s still the boy that had a crush on me, I melt. I’ve missed this guy.
At the end of the evening, accused of eating most of his dessert and mine, I laugh and snuggle close as he helps me out of my chair, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
After dinner, we walk down 5th Avenue—it’s one of those rare walks where you’re just walking for pleasure, without any rush of having to be anywhere or wanting to be any other place than where you are.
“I’ve never really opened up to a guy before—about my parents. It’s so easy with you. I’ve been scared that you could hurt me. But lately I’ve been thinking that I don’t want to be scared anymore. That if anything, you’re the one guy I’d trust not to hurt me.”
I reach out and slip my hand into his—then realize what I’m doing.
“I can’t believe I did that.” I’m so shocked by how naturally I grabbed his hand that I try to withdraw my hand.
“Why.” He gives me a gentle squeeze, keeping my grip in his.
“It was just so impulsive, I just…”
“Just what….” He drags his thumb over mine, his smile fading a little, his golden eyes both penetrating and coaxing.
He trails his thumb into my palm as he waits for my reply.
A million sparks rush up my arms and back.
I feel so awake when I’m close to him and also so completely uneven. It’s as if he literally rocks my world, and it’s hard to find my footing when he’s near.
He’s staring at me again, so I tuck my hand away and nervously bite on my lip.
Christos is a shark for business but he’s a shark for everything he does as well. He has so much more mileage than me, even in relationships. I’ve never had a real one before.
It seems so easy for him to reach out and take my hand in his again, squeeze me tight.
My heart feels like it grows about ten sizes in my chest as I let the feeling sink in, let myself enjoy it.
There’s a reward in simple things like letting him hold my hand, here in New York, where so many other people walk past us, unaware of this being the first time I do this. The only guy that’s ever made me want to be with someone. With him.
“Christos, I want you to know that…I’m not playing games here. I know it may seem like that because I’ve been scared, but I’m not interested in some fling.”
“I’m not planning on this being a fling. I’m dead serious about you, Bryn.” He looks at me soberly, and I swallow with emotion and nod, relieved that he feels like this.
“So no other man for you? Ever?”
“No. I mean I dated for some time, but nothing serious. Not really.”
“I can’t believe all those idiots let you slip by.”
I laugh. “There’s not many of them, really. I know I seem extroverted but I’m more introvert, I’m drained around too many people. I used to think I’d be more extroverted when I grew up, but I find the opposite is actually true.” I glance at his thoughtful profile. “What about you, do you find you’re more open to friendships as you get older?” I say.
He shrugs. “Not really,” he finally says. “There are friends, then there are acquaintances. I can count the former with the fingers of one hand.” He shoots me a smile.
The wind blows through his sexy hair. I’m acutely aware of every inch of his body walking next to mine. Of everything about him. It’s never been like this for me, ever. It shouldn’t be like this with him, and not now. But it is; and it’s difficult to put a name to the things he makes me feel.
We continue walking. Talking.
“I’m not the kind of guy that trusts people easily. I keep my circle tight and to only a few.”
“And Cole?”
“I suppose Cole is more open to socializing. He wasn’t the one who took care of our mother as closely. When she passed, in a way my being the eldest made me feel responsible for not only myself, but for him too.”
“His father figure, so to speak.”
“Yeah, well. Without a dad for your whole life, someone needs to step into the role.”
I eye him. “Do you miss her? Your mom?”
“I do. But I’d seen her suffer long enough that I know she’s in a better place now.”
We fall silent for a while.
“I was obsessed with death in my college days,” I tell him.
“Why?” He seems shocked.
“Because of my parents…when they left on their trip, I never expected I’d be saying goodbye for the last time. Then I get a call from my Aunt Cecile, and she was crying so hard, she could hardly speak.” I trail off and Christos’s eyes shadow.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“I’m sorry too.” I swallow. “Did I ever thank you for the flowers?”
“Thank me later,” he says wickedly.
“Come on, you’re so not getting laid because of flowers.”
His eyes darken. He shoots me a look.
“You’re getting laid for other reasons,” I add, tongue-in-cheek.
He slips his hand into my waistband and caresses the skin on the back of my spine.
“I was pretty fucked up for the next few months,” I admit. “I kept thinking my time was coming too. I kept waiting for it to happen. It was only when I turned 21 that I finally felt like I should do something with my life and stop waiting. Because it might be a long time coming.” I laugh, but sober up to add, “My Aunt Cecile died shortly after. It was hard not to fall back into my grief.”
He studies me with a small smile. “So are you a hypochondriac or what?”
“No! I mean. No. It just hits you hard.” I lean back and sigh. “I read this book, Remembrance, by Jude Deveraux, about reincarnation and how we come back over and over and find our loved ones again, so I felt better about that. Like when I met you in high school. I would bet anything that I knew you before in another life.”
“Who was I?”
I smile shyly, feeling his amused gaze on my profile and somehow in my heart. “Someone crucial.”
“What? Like your brother?”
“No! You know what.” I snicker.
He smiles seductively, stares straight ahead, then at me. “I think knowing all this ends makes it even better, makes every moment count more. Right now this second,” he snaps his finger, “just gone.”
“Way to kill my enjoyment right now, Christos!”
He drapes his arm around me and we walk, laughing.
It seems natural that I press into his embrace, my whole body craving his body heat.
“Tell me something about you,” I say.
“What do you want to know?”