Page 47 of Had To Be You

“Throw down on Emma? In front of all of these people?”

I laugh, my eyebrows rising in question. “What would be wrong with that?”

“Oh, nothing,” she laughs. “It’s just that typically I try my best not to beat up art teachers if I can help it. Especially ones in fuzzy rainbow sweatshirts.”

We spend the next hour finishing our paintings while Ellie has far too much fun ridiculing my artwork. Despite the fact that it’s at my expense, I crack up right along with her. It’s a wonder Emma doesn’t kick us out of class. When our masterpieces are finished, we both agree that we’re not ready to call it a night.

“I’m picking the place, Ells,” I say, slipping my arm around her waist. “Here’s hoping I won’t be groped by a random stranger at our next stop.”

“Sounds like very little fun, Liam. How will we pass the time?”

Pulling her in close to my side, I kiss the top of her head. “I have a whole catalog of ideas, beautiful. I believe we will be just fine.”

* * *

We walk the six blocks to an upscale cocktail bar. It’s dimly lit but there’s a buzz of excitement throughout the place. The walls are painted a jet black, accentuated with gold light fixtures and the floor is a black-and-white checkerboard of glossy tiles. Red velvet stools with gold legs are lined up along the white-and-gold veined marble bar. Moody but vibrant. The ambiance reflects how I feel as I sit across from Ellie at a marble table in the center of the bar: still high from our evening together but wound tight from wanting to touch her. Needing my hands somewhere, anywhere on her body.

I could stare at this woman all night. Ellie is captivating, and when I spend time with her I feel like I’m unraveling a mystery. She’s confident when she’s talking about what she wants but vulnerable in quieter moments. She’s direct, but also secretive in a way that’s completely enticing. She’s a puzzle in the best kind of way, and just when I think I have her figured out she throws me for another loop, challenging me and bringing me to my knees in the same breath. My chest fills with a feeling I’m not used to when I’m with her. It’s something I’ve never felt before. And I like it.

Ellie looks up at me from the menu she’s looking at, tapping her finger against her cheek as she deliberates. I watch her tongue absentmindedly run the length of her bottom lip and I am plunged back into memories of what it feels like to have my mouth on hers.

I sit back in my seat, crossing one leg over my knee, trying to remain cool. My body hums with anticipation. I’m lost in Ellie for a few more lust-filled seconds until she breaks the silence.

“You know, they’re known here for their decadent desserts.”

“They are, are they?”

“Yes.”

“Then you should try every single one. I’ll order them all.”

She raises her eyebrows at me, apparently not convinced. “And I’m supposed to eat them all by myself? I haven’t forgotten how you feel about junk food. Your body is a temple and all of that ridiculousness,” Ellie says with a playful grin, her eyes travelling from my mouth to my lap and back to her menu. “I’m also in the mood for a nightcap,” she adds, nodding at the drink menu, her gorgeous blue eyes meeting my gray ones.

I’m in the mood for a different type of nightcap, but I go along with her. “What’s your fancy?”

“I think… an Old Fashioned. Join me?” Her eyes are darker than I’m used to as they sweep over my face to my chest then to my hands. I can see she’s in a flirtatious mood and I’m happy to indulge.

“I could go for one myself.”

“Look at us agreeing. We are two agreeable people. It’s a sight to be seen.”

I smile, laughing at her sarcasm, then turn the tables on our repartee. “It‘s starting to feel like we agree on a lot.”

This makes her grin, and her eyes change again, this time alighting with what looks like hope. She leans in closer. My pulse quickens with anticipation. It always feels this way with Ellie. Then our waiter unknowingly interrupts our playful banter to ask if we’ve decided on drinks. I order the Old Fashioneds, silently cursing his timing. When he’s left, I return my gaze to Ellie.

“So… how about that dessert?”

“I love a good chocolate cake. I can never say no to that. Share a slice with me?”

“None for me, but go ahead and order one for yourself.”

“Worried about your delicious washboard abs?” she asks, letting her hair back down from the ponytail she cinched it in at our art class.

“You think they’re delicious?” I counter, causing Ellie to roll her eyes and shake her head.

“Please. Anyone with two working eyes and a pulse would appreciate your midsection. I have eyes, Liam, and 20/20 vision,” she says, then catches the attention of our waiter and orders the dessert.

Our drinks arrive minutes later, followed by a slice of chocolate cake that our waiter slides into the center of the table with two forks.

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