Page 8 of Always Been You
“Oh, please, I haven’t changed much. I still look the same and weigh the same but you, on the other hand…” I whistle, giving him a playful look.
We’re in the middle of the bar and I can feel people starting to notice us. Eddie must feel it too because he gently guides me away from prying eyes, walking me back to my seat while he follows behind, putting his large hands on the small of my back, and sending shivers down my body. When we arrive, the bartender passes a margarita to me.
“That one’s on me,” he winks and I nod. I’d chased a customer who had insulted the bartender to the dance floor because the side of me that couldn’t stay out of people’s business intervened.
Eddie eyes us skeptically looking from the bartender to me with so much suspicion, I laugh. I haven’t laughed this freely in a while and it feels good.
I tell him about the rude customer who thought he was privileged enough to disrespect others and throw money at them while at it. I also tell him how I reacted to defend the bartender and he barks out a belly laugh. When was the last time I got a reaction like this from a guy by just speaking?
“I should thank him then,” he says solemnly, too composed all of a sudden.
“And why is that?”
“Because he led you straight to me,” he grabs my left hand, caressing it and my body betrays me, heat pooling between my legs. This is Eddie. I shouldn’t feel like this—but damn, I can’t stop. Staring longer at my ring finger, he murmurs, “Why are you here?”
“Why shouldn’t I be here?” I shoot back, raising a brow at him. His gaze shifts lower, lingering on my chest, and when he licks his lips, the air between us thickens. My breath catches, and suddenly the space feels too small. I feel exposed, as though he can see right through me.
“You know what I mean,” he averts his gaze.
“No, I don't." I redraw my hands. I feel like he is judging me, which wouldn’t make sense. I can’t read him. I think I’m no longer a human lie detector. I mean, I didn’t know my husband was cheating until later.
“I didn’t mean to offend you, Lynx; it’s just—” he raises his hand in surrender, attempting to stand when a drunk bumps into his stool. He quickly steps down from his stool, takes my hand, and leads me away from the bar. I quickly pick up my drink and go in the direction he’s leading me to. Passing by splayed bodies, he leans in close, whispering just for me, “This is not your scene.”
The way he says it,Lynx,the nickname he gave me, makes something in my chest twist.
“Oh really? And how would you know? We haven’t seen or spoken to each other in what, a thousand years, and suddenly you know my scenes?” I challenge him, raising an eyebrow. I turn to face him, still walking ahead, as we move along a narrow path barely wide enough for one person. It feels like a secret passage.
“Where are we going, by the way?” I belatedly ask, my words slurring slightly.
His firm hands catch me as I stumble, nearly bumping into the elevator doors on the other side of the path.
What’s wrong with me? Why am I following him when he’s practically a stranger? Sure, it’s Eddie—but still. Maybe it’s a terrible idea, but with him, everything feels easier, even the choices I’d normally talk myself out of. I don’t care where we’re going. All I care about is the way his hand in mine makes me feel. Tonight, anything that makes me feel desired is a yes.
“The rooftop terrace and you know that’s not what I meant empress. Still defensive, huh? I always loved that about you,” I sucked in a deep breath.What were we talking about again? Damn, I need to focus.He steps into my space after the elevator starts to move, pushing me to the corner. I hold my breath, as he tucks a falling hair behind my ear.
“You still wear your hair the same way,” he murmurs, his voice low, intimate. “I used to imagine it all the time… wondering if it still felt the same.” He comes closer, brushing strands of my falling curls from my face, his fingers lingering a little too long. I inhale, my pulse quickening while every inch between us disappears.
The air shifts, thick with tension. After a moment of silence, I swallow a lump in my throat. Is he going to do it? Am I going to let him? My mind spirals, thoughts rushing faster than I can hold onto. We’re too close. Eddie’s lips brush the skin just below my ear, and a shiver races down my spine. His hand moves from my face, caressing my upper arm with the softest touch until it reaches my hand.
Just when I think the moment will break me, he pulls back, his fingers slipping away. Then, with a swift movement, he grabs my drink. The tension breaks, but his eyes never leave mine as he raises the glass to his lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip from the place my lips touched It feels like a test. A reminder of how easily he could unravel me if I let him.
For a moment, the breath I’d been holding escapes me, the space between us charged but unspoken. Was this a tease? A warning?
“Hey, that’s mine—” I reposition myself, trying to stand tall enough to snatch it from him, but he’s too much taller than I am. Eddie raises it high, and I stretch up, reaching unsuccessfully. I jump, and my lips brush his cheek. The scent of whiskey mixed with tequila and something else fills the air between us. Quickly, I move to the far end of the elevator and clear my throat.
“You can’t just steal my drink,” I say, my voice sounding breathy to my own ears, my heart beating so fast I can’t think straight. The air is charged again.
“Oh yeah.” He eyes me for a moment, stepping closer, but before he can reach me, the elevator dings. We step out onto the rooftop. I walk toward the glass railings and glance around, noticing the rain falling outside and the tall buildings glistening under the glow of the night lights.
“How have you been?" I turn my attention back to Eddie only to realize our proximity was zero to none. I can smell his perfume, but strangely, I don’t mind. He goes to sit on the couch breaking our closeness and I instantly miss it.
What is wrong with me? Before I can decipher it, he gestures for me to come sit on his lap. It’s not the first time so I do so without a second thought until I sit on him and notice how different this feels. I feel the firmness of his thighs beneath me and warmth seeps in. The air between us becomes thick and my heart stutters. His laps used to bring comfort to me but this spells attraction and desire.
“I missed you,” he murmurs. He’s been touching me here and there with a brush of my hair or holding my hands; I shouldn’t feel anything yet I’m wet underneath. I shift slightly on him to adjust myself and I feel him tense, his breath catches, and my heart races. He hardens beneath me. This wasn’t what it used to be like for us.
“Be still,” he says hoarsely. I turn to look into his eyes, trying to interpret his emotions and thoughts. Eddie and I were always close, although he and Aria are of the same age and were in the same class.
He was always present for family dinners at the estate and his house was where my parents looked first when they were looking for me. I knew I could count on him to defend me until the incident that took him away from us—me. I also had a massive crush on him back then, but even then, the air wasn’t this thick.
