look up into his eyes. "Don't hide your eyes from me. There's nothing to be ashamed of."
I'm suddenly awestruck by his boldness and the tingle that is now rushing through my body from his touch. "I'm sorry, I'm not normally a shy or blushing person. It’s just these last couple of days have beat me up emotionally and, well, all those Cosmos are finally going to my head."
"Believe me, I understand completely. I'm exhausted myself. I'd like to see you finish your Cosmo and retire to my room."
Without thinking, I raise the glass to my lips, tilt my head back, and pour the rest of the drink down my throat. I swallow and smile. "Problem solved?" I giggle then because the look of absolute astonishment on his face is comical. "Sorry, I um...told you it was a waste. I'll pay you back."
He shakes his head and laughs. "No need. I would buy you another, just to watch you do that again."
I smile. "Bloody hell"
He's still laughing. "I have to admit, that is my favorite expression and I hear a bit of an accent. Are you British?" He asks. No doubt comparing Bobbie and me. Bobbie was far from British.
"No. I might as well be, however. I grew up in England, under the care of a matron, then in boarding school in Surrey, England. I only managed to convince my father to let me move home about nine years ago." Wow, what is with my mouth running off with all this full disclosure? "I'm sorry, you don't want to hear all this."
"On the contrary, I think I do."
I am quickly realizing that I don't know much about him. But I want to know more. A lot more.
"Tristan—. Can I call you that or would you prefer Barney?" I giggle, feeling the alcohol really starting to mess with my brain. And to be honest, I'm not even sure I'm talking properly. I know that I need to leave Tristan to his evening before I make a complete ass out of myself.
He smiles his big, drop-to-your-knees-for-me smile. "Tristan please, Cami."
"Tristan, I need you to know, more than anything, that I am not out here because of who you are. I came out here to thank you for the wonderful drink and to say hello. Who you are is who you are. It doesn't matter to me what you do for a living." I take a deep breath. I need a minute to get ahold of myself. Tristan's expression is cool and calm, so I continue. "To be honest, the only reason that I know who you are is because I find you attractive and have always been mesmerized by your image – not the stories – on the covers of the magazines in the grocery checkout aisle and nothing more. I've never seen your movies, and I am not going to fall over and grovel at your feet like some crazed lunatic. You don't need that, and frankly, I would probably be liable to do something really stupid to regret tomorrow..." I’ve lost all the steam I'd built up for my little speech, but there’s just one more thing I need to say. "It's your eyes."
So much for getting ahold of myself.
Oh yes, those eyes. The ice blue penetrating eyes that always seemed to bore into me from the covers that grace all the tabloids and even the respectable magazines. They're staring at me now, dumbfounded at my rant.
I decide that it’s time to go.
"I'm sorry, Tristan. I just thought that you should know." I take a deep breath. "I'm staying in room seventy-one twenty-one, and I know that you are staying in the penthouse. If you would like to see me again, you know where to find me. It has been a pleasure, Tristan." I extend my hand again. "I hope to see you soon."
He takes my hand and that zing is back. It shoots straight to my heart with a jolt. I've really drank too much tonight. I release his hand. He is slow and reluctant to let go, his eyes locked with mine. For a moment I'm unwilling to let him go, too. The fear of never seeing him again strikes through me.
Realizing that I'm being ridiculous, I pull up my big girl panties, turn, and start to walk away. I feel eyes burning huge holes in the back of my head as I head back to the
I'm suddenly awestruck by his boldness and the tingle that is now rushing through my body from his touch. "I'm sorry, I'm not normally a shy or blushing person. It’s just these last couple of days have beat me up emotionally and, well, all those Cosmos are finally going to my head."
"Believe me, I understand completely. I'm exhausted myself. I'd like to see you finish your Cosmo and retire to my room."
Without thinking, I raise the glass to my lips, tilt my head back, and pour the rest of the drink down my throat. I swallow and smile. "Problem solved?" I giggle then because the look of absolute astonishment on his face is comical. "Sorry, I um...told you it was a waste. I'll pay you back."
He shakes his head and laughs. "No need. I would buy you another, just to watch you do that again."
I smile. "Bloody hell"
He's still laughing. "I have to admit, that is my favorite expression and I hear a bit of an accent. Are you British?" He asks. No doubt comparing Bobbie and me. Bobbie was far from British.
"No. I might as well be, however. I grew up in England, under the care of a matron, then in boarding school in Surrey, England. I only managed to convince my father to let me move home about nine years ago." Wow, what is with my mouth running off with all this full disclosure? "I'm sorry, you don't want to hear all this."
"On the contrary, I think I do."
I am quickly realizing that I don't know much about him. But I want to know more. A lot more.
"Tristan—. Can I call you that or would you prefer Barney?" I giggle, feeling the alcohol really starting to mess with my brain. And to be honest, I'm not even sure I'm talking properly. I know that I need to leave Tristan to his evening before I make a complete ass out of myself.
He smiles his big, drop-to-your-knees-for-me smile. "Tristan please, Cami."
"Tristan, I need you to know, more than anything, that I am not out here because of who you are. I came out here to thank you for the wonderful drink and to say hello. Who you are is who you are. It doesn't matter to me what you do for a living." I take a deep breath. I need a minute to get ahold of myself. Tristan's expression is cool and calm, so I continue. "To be honest, the only reason that I know who you are is because I find you attractive and have always been mesmerized by your image – not the stories – on the covers of the magazines in the grocery checkout aisle and nothing more. I've never seen your movies, and I am not going to fall over and grovel at your feet like some crazed lunatic. You don't need that, and frankly, I would probably be liable to do something really stupid to regret tomorrow..." I’ve lost all the steam I'd built up for my little speech, but there’s just one more thing I need to say. "It's your eyes."
So much for getting ahold of myself.
Oh yes, those eyes. The ice blue penetrating eyes that always seemed to bore into me from the covers that grace all the tabloids and even the respectable magazines. They're staring at me now, dumbfounded at my rant.
I decide that it’s time to go.
"I'm sorry, Tristan. I just thought that you should know." I take a deep breath. "I'm staying in room seventy-one twenty-one, and I know that you are staying in the penthouse. If you would like to see me again, you know where to find me. It has been a pleasure, Tristan." I extend my hand again. "I hope to see you soon."
He takes my hand and that zing is back. It shoots straight to my heart with a jolt. I've really drank too much tonight. I release his hand. He is slow and reluctant to let go, his eyes locked with mine. For a moment I'm unwilling to let him go, too. The fear of never seeing him again strikes through me.
Realizing that I'm being ridiculous, I pull up my big girl panties, turn, and start to walk away. I feel eyes burning huge holes in the back of my head as I head back to the
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