Page 168 of Hunger
Indigo
Iswallow down a piece of cucumber as Philip once again encourages me to have some more wine.
I guess this is part of that Nice GuyTMroutine.
I shake my head. “I’m a lightweight,” I repeat, my tone more insistent than last time. “If I have more than one, I start giggling incessantly which is no fun for anyone.”
“Sounds fun to me.” He flashes me a long smile. “This one’s from a vineyard in Napa. My uncle knows the vigneron. He buys it by the caseload.”
I don’t know if that’s supposed to impress me but so far, none of it has, including the borderline creepy way he keeps glaring at me before glancing down at my tits, and the uber-confident innuendo-laced way he’s talking. The guy sounds like he’s swallowed some manual on how to pick up women and is just going down the list of techniques one by one.
I can’t believe Carrie would think we’d be a good match. Although, maybe that’s not entirely fair. I am aware that I've been looking for flaws since I walked in.
“Just have one sip,” he pleads with a smile. “For me.”
Or maybe not…
He can’t surely believe it’s okay to pressure a woman to drink in this day and age, can he?
I glance at my phone, contemplating whether to text Carrie now and order her to get her ass over here so that I can bow out without him insisting we go on another date, or worse, go someplace after this.
He’s a handsome guy and based on his suit and watch, apparently quite wealthy, and I suspect another woman would be loving his company, but right now, all I want to do is find out if there’s an ecstatic dance class nearby where I can blow off some energy and forget the contents of my brain for an hour.
For no other reason than to get him off my back, I bring the glass to my lips, taking a sip that a hamster would consider restrained, just enough to coat the tip of my tongue. “Mmm, delicious,” I lie, barely tasting it as I place the glass back onto the bar.
He smiles as I distract myself with my meal, which I will definitely be paying for myself even though it’s gonna cost me about a week’s worth of groceries. I guess I should have checked the prices on the menu before agreeing to this place…
“Your hair has faded a bit since the wedding,” he says, peering around the side of me at my hair tied up at the back.
“Yeah, red and pink wash out pretty easily.” I take a bite of tomato as he swallows down a piece of steak.
“So, you’re gonna let it all grow out then?”
“Um, I don’t know,” I shrug. “I never plan these things out. Honestly, I just wake up one day with a need to dye my hair,” I chuckle. “Change up the energy a—”
“Because,” he interrupts as I take a sip of water, “I think you’d look amazing if you got blond highlights.” I blink at the horse’s ass very very slowly. “Maybe you could get them to strip that pink out and just go blond.” His eyes fall to my lips. “You’d be so fucking hot.”
It suddenly dawns on me with razor-sharp focus that I don’t have the social skills to navigate this date because right now, I truly can’t tell whether the average woman would be flattered when all I want to do is cram the rest of his filet mignon down his esophagus… in one piece.
“Well, thanks for your opinion,” I respond, smiling at this pointonlyfor the sake of Tom’s friendship with him. “I may take you up on it one day.”
“I hope you do.”
As I take a sip of water, the cubes of ice clunking against my lip, my gaze is drawn to a waitress carrying a tray with at least four plates on it, her balancing skills bordering on supernatural. As my gaze pivots a little to the right, a chill seizes me and the skin prickles on my exposed neck and upper back.
I turn my head a little further only to have the air sucked out of me at the sight of a man sitting on the other side of the restaurant, his eyes smoldering with dark flame, his face a cloud of thunder. He’s sitting at a table next to Tom and some other guy.
What the actual fuck…
An unconscious whisper escapes me.“Greyson.”
My jaw tightens as I begin to glower. What the hell is he doing here? And moreover, what the fuck is that unholy glare of his about?
The sound of Philip’s voice has me swiveling back to face him.
Shit…
“So, what did you get up to after the wedding?” he asks. “I thought I might bump into you, but I didn’t see you.”