I wondered if she was here for school or if she was living here permanently. The thought that she was too young for me came back with full force. She couldn’t be older than eighteen. I shifted, feeling uncomfortable. I shouldn’t be attracted to this eighteen-year-old who looked like she barely knew anything about life.
She came up to me then, and despite the dim lighting in this place, I could make out the golden flecks in those green eyes of hers. They darkened the more I looked at her.
Interesting.
So she wasn’t unaffected by me as she led on, but she was good. She walked around with an air of coolness, of this untouchable force that should and only be admired, and that was all.
But I wanted to touch her.
I wanted to take her and play with her as my own personal toy.
My favorite toy.
And I always treated my toys well.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked softly.
I tapped the almost empty glass. “Perhaps another drink, and an answer to a question.”
“What question?” she asked, almost shyly. I didn’t know if she was truly shy by nature, or if it was just her age. Whichever it was, I found it endearing in the worst way possible. Not so untouchable anymore, and this side of this sweet girl was bringing out all my protective instinct.
I resisted the urge to move my hand up and touch her.
She wasn’t mine to touch.
Not yet, an insistent voice whispered inside my head. I shook away the silly thought.
“Have a drink with me tonight,” I said, taking in those mesmerizing green eyes. I watched as they widened in surprise, as if she couldn’t believe I had actually asked her that, before they turned dark, showcasing her interest and desire.
I waited patiently, like one would for a prey to resurface after it had hid out so thoroughly in the dark. Indecision waged a war in her eyes. For a moment, I thought she would say no, no matter how obviously she wanted to say yes.
She should say no to me.
One look at the girl and I knew she was too good for me. It wouldn’t have stopped me from wanting her, in fact, it might have made me that much more desperate to have her.
But then she surprised me when she let out a deep breath and said, “I get off at midnight.”
The way she said it, like she thought the late hour would have deterred me. I smiled at her, baring teeth. “Perfect. Meet me on the rooftop then.”
Before she could say anything else, a customer from a nearby table called for her attention.
I watched her for a beat, loving the way the outfit hugged her curves, loving every single feature of this delicate girl, before I dropped a hundred on my table and left.
It was almost midnight.
I wouldn’t have to wait long.
Yet I didn’t know what I would do when she showed up. What did I know what to do with a girl like her?
I was flying back to New York the next morning. Early the next morning.
At most, I could give her a quick fuck in the bathroom, but something about the thought of doing that to a girl like her felt tawdry and wrong. Dirty and undeserved.
I didn’t want to stain her with my cynicism.
I went up the stairs to the roof.
Perhaps I could get her number. I could stay in contact with her, because something told me if I let her go, I would regret it for the rest of life.