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“At least one of us is getting somewhere,” I mutter under my breath.

He pushes the heavy drink in front of me. His knuckles are ropey and covered in scars from where they’ve slit open in fights, presumably. It’s unhealthy for me to think that’s so incredibly sexy that I can feel a slickness gather between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together.

“Light!” I holler suddenly.

If we were seated with other patrons, they’d all be staring, but we’re alone and the only other customer in this room is staring directly into my eyes. His fingers move forward on the tabletop and ever so timidly touch my wrist.

I want to live in my wrist, and I try so hard not to look at where his body meets mine.

“Light,” I say measuredly. “Like how the streetlight traveled through my color contacts and you could see the real me.”

Emery took out a cigarette and lit it with a Zippo. I was surprised he smoked, but I didn’t say anything. Watching him, light, inhale and exhale the smoke in a straight line up toward the ceiling nearly undid me. Every single thing this man did was a study in seduction.

“See, Celia. Physics is fun. I can’t wait to teach you everything I know.”

He licked his lips and brought the cigarette to them again. A faint smile cracked his stoic face as he inhaled.

“The running stops now. You’re safe with me,” he said without a speck of doubt in his gravel-scratched voice. I knew not to question his declaration. I met his gaze instead and nodded my head.

"I don't like the typical. I don’t do typical. I don’t subscribe to what society tells us is attractive or important or valuable. You should know that about me. I can’t be tricked into believing an empty husk is full of substance. I'm a physicist, Celia. I don’t fuck around with sex and dating. I don’t buy into the lie that commercial goods will fulfil me, that a type of car will make me more of a man. I don’t even believe in an immortal God to save my hedonistic mortal soul. I simply don’t do any of that shit."

"I'm pretty average compared to you then, I guess."

"Liar."

"I am not," I said. I was a tad bit offended and a little scared that he could somehow see through me, read my mind even when I wasn’t letting him in.

“I’ll tell you what I do do.” He took another slow drag of his cigarette and I watched the cherry glow in the dim restaurant light. “I use my hands to fight.” He cracked his knuckles and shoved back his chair. “I use the laws of physics to understand the universe around me.” He stood, threw down a couple of hundred dollar bills from his wallet. “I get what I want, and then I get the fuck out. That applies to about nine-tenths of my life.” He reached out his hand to pulled me to standing. Then he wrapped his large fist around mine and interwove our fingers together.

I felt the thrill from the touch in the small of my back and then it traveled straight through me and ended up like a tickle right below my belly button. I felt like my stomach might fall out of me if I couldn’t get my shit together. He wasn’t a sorcerer, he was a goddamned college professor.

This is real. This is real, This is real. I chanted to myself in my head.

I’d only known this man for a short time and I already felt like my life would never be the same again.

We walked outside and it was balmy, mist hung in the warm air. Back under the streetlight again, I readied myself for him put the helmet on me. But he stopped and stared into my eyes as if he could read all my thoughts and knew all my best kept secrets—including the nightmares of my past and everything I was so desperate to get away from. Then again, if he came from Little Burgundy and got to where he was now in life, he was probably running from something, too. "So why did you want to come here? Is this where you bring all your dates?"

He leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms, staring at me even more deeply. "I've never brought another woman here. I don't like to share my past with people."

"Then why did you bring me here? I thought it was like your move, bring a girl to the hood, feed her great Mexican food, and show her that you're not just a mild-mannered physics professor but an actual badass."

"You saw me box, Celia. If you wanted proof I was a bad boy, I think that would've been enough."

"It seems to me like you try to hide that aspect of your life from people."


Tags: Mila Crawford Romance