Las Vegas scum rides the bus. I’m reminded of that fact every time I hop on one.
“Okay, whatever you say.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, I go back to scouring the menu even though I know I want a burger and fries, and a nice milkshake. “So, I’ll see you at home?” Chrissy asks in my direction, but I ignore her. I’m pissed at her little charade. It’s childish.
When I don’t give her an answer she rolls her head to the side, glancing at Emerson. “Thanks for coming today. It was nice to have someone else there with us. What you said was beautiful.”
“I’m just glad I could be there.”
I look up at them and I try to gauge what he might be thinking from his facial expression. He looks indifferent, but something in his eyes leads me to believe that he means what he’s saying. Even though I’ve only looked into his eyes a handful of times, I know they can’t lie. Eyes like his weren’t made to deceive; they were made to captivate, to enchant . . . to seduce. Oh boy, were they made to seduce.
Pull it together, Presley.
Chrissy turns on her heel, escaping before anyone can say another word, her ass shaking the whole way until she’s out the door. It doesn’t escape my notice that every pair of male eyes is on her . . . well, except for Emerson’s. He’s too busy looking at me watching her, and I can feel myself shying away. It’s a curious feeling. On one hand it’s incredibly uncomfortable feeling his eyes on me, but at the same time, being with him is effortless. It’s maddening, really. I don’t understand his interest. Why he can’t take a hint is beyond me.
The waitress comes to our table, supposedly to take our orders, but she’s too busy snapping her gum, trying to get Emerson’s attention.
“So, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before,” she leads, “and I always recognize a face like yours.”
I roll my eyes but Emerson just smiles, his eyes never leaving me. “It’s my first time. Whaddya recommend?”
She leans forward, shamelessly exposing her cleavage while opening his menu. “The burger basket with a shake is sinful ,” she giggles.
Emerson remains unaffected by her shameless flirtation and a part of me revels in the fact that she can’t seem to gain his attention. For some reason I am what he wants to focus on and it makes me question if I should continue pushing him away.
She tries her luck a few more times before eventually giving up and just taking our order. We both rattle off what we want with ease, Emerson’s eyes never leaving me. Handing our menus over to the girl wearing the apron, I let out a deep breath. His intensity is overwhelming and I’ve had enough.
“You’re creeping me out,” I finally say.
“Good,” he says coolly, “because you infuriate me.”
His honesty takes me by surprise and I take in a sharp breath. There’s so much I want to say, so much I want to ask him, so much I don’t understand, but instead I sit in silence, brooding, my arms crossed over my chest. While I brood, I try to understand why this boy won’t leave me alone. It must be part of some sick joke. That, or he gets his kicks by going after girls that he can’t have. Another guy who enjoys the thrill of the chase. Whatever it is, he’s seriously affecting my mood.
“You can quit pouting. It does nothing but make you more adorable.”
I glare at him. “I don’t understand this.”
“You don’t have to. Let’s just sit here and pretend to be two normal human beings for the afternoon and see where it takes us.”
As soon as he finishes speaking, the waitress arrives with our food, carefully placing the plates in front of us. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks, slightly breathless. We both shake our heads and I quickly pop a fry into my mouth. It burns my tongue, but the greasy goodness is too good to spit out. Having the food in front of me reminds my stomach just how hungry I am, and any thoughts of acting ladylike go out of the window
“Okay, whatever you say.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, I go back to scouring the menu even though I know I want a burger and fries, and a nice milkshake. “So, I’ll see you at home?” Chrissy asks in my direction, but I ignore her. I’m pissed at her little charade. It’s childish.
When I don’t give her an answer she rolls her head to the side, glancing at Emerson. “Thanks for coming today. It was nice to have someone else there with us. What you said was beautiful.”
“I’m just glad I could be there.”
I look up at them and I try to gauge what he might be thinking from his facial expression. He looks indifferent, but something in his eyes leads me to believe that he means what he’s saying. Even though I’ve only looked into his eyes a handful of times, I know they can’t lie. Eyes like his weren’t made to deceive; they were made to captivate, to enchant . . . to seduce. Oh boy, were they made to seduce.
Pull it together, Presley.
Chrissy turns on her heel, escaping before anyone can say another word, her ass shaking the whole way until she’s out the door. It doesn’t escape my notice that every pair of male eyes is on her . . . well, except for Emerson’s. He’s too busy looking at me watching her, and I can feel myself shying away. It’s a curious feeling. On one hand it’s incredibly uncomfortable feeling his eyes on me, but at the same time, being with him is effortless. It’s maddening, really. I don’t understand his interest. Why he can’t take a hint is beyond me.
The waitress comes to our table, supposedly to take our orders, but she’s too busy snapping her gum, trying to get Emerson’s attention.
“So, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before,” she leads, “and I always recognize a face like yours.”
I roll my eyes but Emerson just smiles, his eyes never leaving me. “It’s my first time. Whaddya recommend?”
She leans forward, shamelessly exposing her cleavage while opening his menu. “The burger basket with a shake is sinful ,” she giggles.
Emerson remains unaffected by her shameless flirtation and a part of me revels in the fact that she can’t seem to gain his attention. For some reason I am what he wants to focus on and it makes me question if I should continue pushing him away.
She tries her luck a few more times before eventually giving up and just taking our order. We both rattle off what we want with ease, Emerson’s eyes never leaving me. Handing our menus over to the girl wearing the apron, I let out a deep breath. His intensity is overwhelming and I’ve had enough.
“You’re creeping me out,” I finally say.
“Good,” he says coolly, “because you infuriate me.”
His honesty takes me by surprise and I take in a sharp breath. There’s so much I want to say, so much I want to ask him, so much I don’t understand, but instead I sit in silence, brooding, my arms crossed over my chest. While I brood, I try to understand why this boy won’t leave me alone. It must be part of some sick joke. That, or he gets his kicks by going after girls that he can’t have. Another guy who enjoys the thrill of the chase. Whatever it is, he’s seriously affecting my mood.
“You can quit pouting. It does nothing but make you more adorable.”
I glare at him. “I don’t understand this.”
“You don’t have to. Let’s just sit here and pretend to be two normal human beings for the afternoon and see where it takes us.”
As soon as he finishes speaking, the waitress arrives with our food, carefully placing the plates in front of us. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks, slightly breathless. We both shake our heads and I quickly pop a fry into my mouth. It burns my tongue, but the greasy goodness is too good to spit out. Having the food in front of me reminds my stomach just how hungry I am, and any thoughts of acting ladylike go out of the window
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