“Perry…” I start, my voice dying when something catches my eye.
A man.
Standing on the other side of the room, near the entrance, as if he’s waiting for a table. I swear it’shim.
Seamus.
My heart falls. My head grows light.
“Charlotte.” Perry’s firm voice pulls my attention back to him, my heart beating rapidly. “Are you all right?”
I can’t tell him. I won’t. It’ll ruin the entire night, and that’s the last thing I want. I smile at him, though it feels forced so I let it drop. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
I slide my spoon through the dessert, my hand shaking and I take a deep breath, trying to calm my suddenly frazzled nerves.
“You turned as white as a ghost.” He glances over his shoulder, as if trying to see what I just saw. How does he know? Does he understand me that well? “Did you see something?” he asks once he’s facing me again.
“No, not at all.” I shake my head, marveling at how calm I sound. I’m proud of myself. “My stomach kind of turned. That’s all.”
“Not enjoying the dessert?” His gaze is sharp and he doesn’t wait for my answer. “Be honest, Charlotte.”
I ignore the last comment. “The dessert is amazing.” I take another bite, but it feels like I’m eating sawdust so I choke it down, then take a drink from my water glass.
My gaze returns to the spot where I thought I saw Seamus when the server shows up with the check and Perry pays it, but no one is there. No tall, dark and mysterious man with Seamus’s black hair and soul. It was just a figment of my overactive imagination. He’s long gone.
A sigh leaves through me and I drop my silverware. “I thought I saw him.”
“What?” He glances over his shoulder before returning his attention to me. “He’s not there, babe. He wouldn’t dare follow us and show up in the restaurant out of nowhere. He’s long gone. I’ve already told you this.”
Perry has reassured me more than once that he wouldn’t stick around here and I believe him.
I do.
I refuse to let that man ruin my evening. He’s not even here. He just pops up in my brain every once in a while, reminding me of what he did. What he could’ve done to me.
And I hate it. I hate him.
With every fiber of my being.
“Ready to go?” Perry asks as he puts his wallet away.
“Please,” I say, noting how desperate I sound, but I don’t care.
I want out of here.
Perry guides me through the crowded restaurant, his hand at my lower back, his touch burning through the silky fabric of my dress. I’m hyperaware of his closeness. The way he moves, his scent, his warmth. There’s a short hallway near the front entrance that I assume leads to the restrooms and I grab hold of Perry’s hand, pulling him toward the women’s room.
“Where are we going?” he asks, sounding confused.
“Follow me,” I say assuredly, not quite sure of what I’m doing yet, but knowing that I need him.
I want to feel him touch me. Hold me. His mouth on mine. His hands in my hair. His hands beneath my dress. My hands slipping into the front of his boxer briefs. I’m filled with the sudden, downright frantic need to have him inside of me. Fucking me. Reminding me who I belong to.
Him.
Thankfully, the bathroom is empty and I tug him into the larger stall at the end of the row, farthest from the door. The moment we’re locked inside Perry is on me, his hands resting on my hips, his mouth finding mine. I give in to his kiss, parting my lips, moaning when his tongue strokes mine. Yes, we haven’t really slowed down on the sex part of our relationship, but it was starting to feel the same. Always in a bed. Perry always careful, as if I’m made of glass and he doesn’t want to break me. I want something new.
Exciting.