The Lebrus Stone (28 page)

"I meant my flight back home."

He didn't say anything for a while, just drank his juice. "We've plenty of time," he said unevenly.

"I know. I'm just not looking forward to it. I mean I would miss…some people, but I'm only just getting to know you."

He smiled at that. "You can always come back."

I wiped the corners of my mouth with a napkin and drank some of my lemonade. "So, you're fine about me leaving?"

"No," his response was blunt, almost angry. He quickly flashed another mesmerizing smile. "You could stay here. You know that's what Mother wants."

He lifted my hand from the table and looked at it, stroking a thumb across my knuckles; my skin tingled everywhere he touched. Then again, it did even when he wasn't touching me. It just intensified when he did.  He licked his lips, maybe contemplating the same things as me. Things that involved us entwined, mouth to mouth, and
very
naked.

He frowned. "What's really bothering you?"

So he could tell. I really was that readable.

"I'm just being silly."

"About what?"

"Nothing much."

He placed my hand down and brushed his over the top before moving it back to his plate. It kicked started my heart into overdrive. I sipped more of my drink to calm down.

"If you're worrying about who Kellice is, there's no need," he said practically under his breath. "She's just a friend. Besides, she'll be gone soon. She's moving away." He scoped the room like he was waiting for her to appear.

Why did he sound so guilty of something whenever he, or anyone else, mentioned her name?

"If there's nothing between you, there shouldn't be a problem with us seeing her." My voice was escalating. Jealousy had a sneaky way of making you sound like a chipmunk. This was all new to me: being immensely attracted to a guy, needing his attention, his approval, hoping he wouldn't leave. I couldn't start to show traces of being needy. It would likely push him away, not pull him to me.

He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair.

Waiters rushed around our table, peeking at our full plates, contemplating a time to step in and ask if we were happy with the meal.

I was jealous if I was to be totally honest. But I needed a clarification from Cray. I needed to know that whatever he might have had with Kellice, was completely over with, done and dusted, and closed for the foreseeable future. I needed to protect myself.

He wouldn't look at me as he spoke. "There's nothing between us, Crys. She's just a friend. A friend that had wanted to be more, but hasn't."

"Can you look at me when you talk about her?"

He did, reluctantly. His eyes were a smoldering brown and making my insides quiver in the way I could do without right now.

"I don't want to be with Kellice," he said with a great diligence, intent on making it believable, even if it was possible it wasn't. I had been careless to have let him do so much with me so soon. It was another first and hopefully the last mistake I would make with someone.

"Have you slept with her?" I asked nonchalantly. I couldn't look at him in the eye.

"No," he answered, picking up his knife and fork to continue eating.

I did the same. "I don't think you would tell me anyway."

He peered up. "I would tell you anything you needed to know, Crys."

"Anything
you
think I needed to know, you mean."

"No. Anything you
had
to know."

I needed to quit sounding so whiney. "Then you would tell me if there was more to it?"

"Yes."

I shrugged. Jealousy also made you immature.

"I'm with you because I actually
want
to be," he added.

I shrugged again.

He sighed. "I haven't been a…" he lowered his voice, "saint, but now that I've found you, that life is behind me. I swear."

"But how about those
relationships
?"

"Relationships?" he scoffed. "They could hardly be called that."

"How many were there exactly?"

He sighed. I decided he did it too much "Is it really that important?"

"To me, yes."

"Why?"

"Because I need to know. It's a part of who you are. How you date. It's your track record and now it looks like I'm going to be a part of it. I have a right to know how this could end."

He leaned forward. I tried not to pout, which would have been another first. The list was getting longer.

"Are you worried I'm going to dump you in two weeks?" I could hear the amusement in his voice.

"I might be finding out."

He laughed, bringing the attention of other diners who acted like they'd never discussed fidelity in public.

"The reason why they lasted two weeks was because of you," he said, incredulous to my comment.

"That's a lie," I said, a fizzing warmth filling me.

"It's true. And you know it."

"You're so smug, Cray Locke."

"And you're somehow all the more beautiful when you're angry."

I rolled my eyes. "That was so corny."

"Well, you've made me that way."

"Fine, blame me."

"How about I have one back."

"What?"

"A compliment."

"Haven't I given you one already?"

"No, and it wasn't corny, as you nicely put it."

I felt stupid now for not accepting his compliment. I wanted it. I just wasn't used to it coming from someone I was attracted to.

"So?" he asked.

"So, nothing. You must get plenty of compliments to keep your ego boosted."

"I'd still like one from you."

"So you can make fun of me?"

"No. So I can hear what you think."

"That's just lame, Cray." I tried not to blush.

"So?" he persisted.

"You're incredible." I shook my head. The tip of his shoe touched mine under the table and sent shivers coursing through me, exploding tingles in my stomach. I was getting too affected by him in public.

"That's one." He smirked, multiplying the tingles.

"I meant as in you're full of yourself."

"Am I right to be?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking."

"Okay, if you must know, you can be annoying."

He nodded in agreement.

"You mash your food."

He looked at the partially mashed contents of his plate, surprised to find I was right.

"You bite your bottom lip too much."

He stopped biting it.

"And your pinky finger needs to touch the glass when you drink something."

He was doing it as I spoke, and corrected himself.

"Is that it?" he asked, his flirty mood gone.

"For now." I folded my arms and stared at him. He looked away first, seeming actually upset as he tried not to bite his bottom lip.

I had belittled him to make him feel inferior. I suppose I wanted him to sound like a person with as many emotional flaws as I had, and I wanted to keep hidden. I wanted to feel his equal, but I'd gone too far in keeping to the truth. Besides, I loved all those things about him. Yet I made them sound like a problem. An inadequacy.

I had been mean, someone too insecure to see I was bringing someone down to my level.

How was he going to want to be with me now, when I didn't live up to what he may have expected?

How could I reassure him that he seemed perfect in every way?

"You have a way of reaching me like no one else," I began nervously. "It's like I evolve around you and your emotions."

He pretended not to listen.

I had to get to his physical attributes. I gulped and drank all of my lemonade. I filled another glass from the bottle and downed that too. It was a good thing it wasn't alcohol. I wasn't good with compliments. Not even with someone who had a lot to be appreciated. I was weary of sounding infatuated, especially in this situation

Before I could continue, he called over the waiter and asked for the bill, even asked a variety of boring questions and gave his opinion on the choice of music. It had to be a way to keep me from talking.

When the waiter walked away with a big smile on his face, Cray shot up.

"Cray, let me finish."

I reached for him, but he mumbled something before walking away to what I presumed was the restroom.

As I waited for him to return, I thought about what I could say to make him feel better, what compliments I could give him. But it might have been too late. I had dug nasty nails in too deep. He was scarring, becoming infected by the hurt. Maybe no one had ever said anything about him to that effect.

I needed to take back what I'd said, but I didn't have a time machine to do it. I needed to correct my mistake before he mistook me for someone else, someone who wasn't falling for him too fast.

It had been a while when he returned, carefree as if he was here alone. He stopped by the table and picked up the black book the waiter had left, filled it with notes from his wallet and a hefty tip, and then flapped the book shut. Cray didn't work while he studied, but Isobel made sure his pockets were brimming. It was why he had a flashy sports car. I suppose that was how she showed him her affection.

A waiter returned just in time to take it from his hands. He smiled my way and bent down to kiss my hand, much like he had when I arrived. He even handed me a single red rose as a way of saying thank you. I was getting more action from the waiter than Cray

"Are you ready?" Cray asked, halfheartedly.

I pushed back my chair and got up. Cray wasn't bothering to help me out of it, considering he had helped me in. I followed him to the exit. Onlookers whispered as I tried to dodge hurrying diners dressed in Anne Sui and Chanel. I admired some others in Ghost or Fendi. If I had known where Cray was taking me, I would have dusted off my Yohji Yamamto dress to stand out. It was one of the few rip off extravagances I had saved up for.

When the valet brought over the car, Cray got in without opening my door for me.

I stayed outside, waiting to see if he would notice I wasn't getting in.

It took a while, and people were beginning to stare. Another valet asked me if I was lost.

Minutes later, Cray stepped out and slammed the door shut behind him.

"Are you coming or not?"

"No." I crossed my arms.

"Why not?"

"Because I need to talk to you."

"Can't we talk in the car?"

"No. You're angry and I need to speak to you without any distractions. You drive like a maniac as it is."

I was insulting him again.

Why were relationships so difficult? Couldn't we just find everything amusing and interesting? Couldn't it be simple mathematics?

He slumped himself on the back of his car and crossed his legs, keeping his hands in his pockets as a way to tell me he wasn't feeling sociable.

"First of all, I'm not angry," he said, before I could speak. "Just…" He huffed. "Never mind."

I stepped closer so nobody could hear what I was about to say. Not that I was ashamed. I was proud of how I felt about him. I just didn't want to possibly humiliate him in front of all these people.

He was looking down at the ground, behaving like he was unworthy of being eye to eye with me, like he was an abysmal person or something. It made me see how much he cared about what I thought of him. It meant I had to say it solely from the heart.

"I know all of your habits because I've looked for them. And they're your qualities, not your downfall. They single you out from the rest of the world that seems mediocre next to you." I released a breath I hadn't known I had been holding. "I'm no good at this because I've never met anyone who stands out so much. You're…so much more than just…a handsome face."

He bit his lip, his cheeks turned pink.

"I can't think of words to describe how attractive you are to…" I looked around me. "Practically everyone around you."

"I don't care about any of them," he cut in with one of his deep frowns.

"You feel unreal to me, Cray," I added before I lost my nerve. "It's like I'm dreaming you, and I'm afraid you're going to disappear."

The pink in his face deepened. It was the only way for me to know if I was doing it right.

"And you make me feel like I can do anything, but at the same time, feel like I might be a failure."

"Seriously?"

I nodded. I was surprised by that one too.

"Why? I don't want you to ever feel a failure."

"Because you're too good to be true. It's a cliché, but you are."

"A cliché?" He raised a brow.