The Fall by Kate Stewart

briefly.
    “Hmmm, well you always were passionate about the needs of women,” I paused with a smirk to watch him stiffen in his seat. “So tell me about your fiancée. What’s her name?”
    “She is a cocky pain in the ass.” He chuckled as he gave the waitress our drink order. It thrilled me that he remembered and ordered my favorite wine.
    “So she is just your type. What’s her name?”
    “Helena,” he said quickly, re-situating the napkin on his lap. It was clear he didn’t want to discuss her.
    Tough shit.
    “Is she a doctor, too?”
    “Yes, she is,” he answered curtly. I watched him shift his gaze to the window next to us as he stared at the people on the street passing by.
    “Did you meet her at Columbia?” I questioned, taking another sip of wine.
    “Dallas, what’s with the questions?”
    “Just curious,” I said, sinking in my seat, an old pain in my chest moving to the surface. “So did you?”
    “Yes, my first year.” My eyes snapped to his as I swallowed the lump in my throat. He didn’t miss my calculation.
    “I’m just trying to get to know you again. I’m also curious about the woman who tamed the infamous Dean Martin. Definitely a first.”
    “She wasn’t the first,” he whispered, almost inaudibly.
    I ignored his remark with more sarcasm. “Was she aware the merchandise had been previously used by half of Texas and the eastern seaboard?”
    “I wasn’t that bad,” he said, crossing his arms with a smirk.
    I just gave him my best ‘you’re full of shit’ by eye.
    I took a sip of my wine, finishing my glass, and pointed to my order on the menu, catching him eyeing me through his tumbler of scotch.
    “You’re a beautiful woman, Dallas.”
    I choked slightly on my mouth full of fermented grape and thanked him as I recovered.
    “You are...so damn beautiful,” he said more to himself than me. I stared at him, unable to keep my chest from rising and falling rapidly. My thighs clenched with the way he looked at me, like he wanted to take me right there. I couldn’t stop staring back. Everything I had dreamt about for the last seven years was sitting across from me at the table, looking at me as if he was thirsty and I was the very last drink of water.
    You hate him.
    “Stop it,” I said dismissively as our plates were put in front of us. I finished my steak at neck breaking speed and watched him scoff at my blatant disregard for the proper fork and the art of chewing.
    “I remember Rose eating like this, but you?”
    “Yeah, yeah.” I ignored him as I devoured the rest of my plate and ordered a huge piece of seductive chocolate cake for dessert. We made small talk, mostly leading to dead ends. I fumbled with a few words under his gaze as I caught it throughout the meal. Dean’s eyes were a clear blue. Much like Josh’s, they had an effect on me. Yet Dean’s did things far worse to me. After a few years apart from Dean, I was almost sure I had romanticized so much about our past; staring at him now across the table, I knew I had not imagined a thing. And he was no longer living in a foreign land I could never reach. He was within my grasp and looking at me like he used to. I was sure I was doing the same.
    He was engaged, and, oh, Dallas, he tore your fucking heart out.
    “Dean, this was wonderful, thank you. You can drop me off at my car.”
    “Ready for bed?” His gaze was hot on mine as he took in my neck and bare shoulders.
    “Still a smooth talker.” I winked. “I’m sure the three of us would be a little uncomfortable in your bed. You know, you, me, Helena—” I held my tongue as his stare grew a little colder.
    His expression didn’t waver and I felt myself sinking in my seat.
    “I’d have to have you all to myself,” he said, his eyes lingering on my lips as I spoke.
    “You have had me all to yourself,” I said as the heat in my lower half rose to an immeasurable temperature.
    Oh God, this was a mistake, a huge mistake.
    Things had gone from