The gesture had been a gift from him, the pair of us stealing a sip together. I hadn’t seen him in many weeks, the term more than half over now. He appeared to be thriving, a beautiful lady on his arm. Said arm candy wasn’t with him now, but perhaps, she needed a potty break.
“Where’s your date?” I asked, and he shrugged.
“Somewhere.” A buck’s dark coat in my direction, those eyes a hazel rosin. “Yours?”
“Somewhere.”
This game we played. Enough for me to shake my head. It made him smile, a hand coming over his buzz cut. I directed a finger at it. “New do?”
“It’s functional. Easier.” He chuckled. “Mom nearly killed me. She loves snatching me by it when I’m being an asshole.”
“And why did she decide not to be here tonight?” I knew she was somewhere else, just didn’t know why if he was hosting an event. “I heard this is your family’s box. Your event?”
“Ma never comes to this thing. Me either. Obviously, since I didn’t go to Pembroke until recently.” He cuffed his jacket sleeve. “This is one of Dad’s old events. I’m here out of formality.”
“I see.”
With that between us, he took advantage of another sip of his champagne, his father I knew to be a sore topic. It was one of many things I hadn’t gotten to break down with him. Not that I’d given him a chance.
I hadn’t given either of us that, but it was probably for the best.
“You look good, Bri,” he said, smiling. “Or should I still call you professor?”
“You don’t have to call me that.” And he didn’t. I wasn’t his professor. I shrugged. “And you do, too.”
He looked more than good, heaven actually. He looked like a man, but I’d never seen him as a boy. He took on too much responsibility, had too much passion, to be anything else.
His incessant joy and love for life had been the only thing that made him slip a little. He was so hopeful for things, his optimism undying. Even though I’d pushed him away, he still came over here with me now as if not missing a beat. He didn’t let the world or me taint him, his spirit.
“You didn’t answer my last email.” He appeared to come out of nowhere with this, as if in my head. I’d pretty much just been thinking about that, how I’d pushed him away. His head tilted. “I know I said the ball is in your court, but how long are you going to make me wait, Brielle?”
He was still waiting? Really?
Really.
I saw that in his eyes, that intention, that confidence. I hadn’t responded to his email. Well, I had but chickened out and recalled it. I hadn’t been able to send my response that day. I couldn’t be weak to him. I knew what would happen.
“What did you want to say?” I asked, stupid that I asked. I couldn’t help it. “The conversation with your friend. How did it go?”
I had wondered about it, naturally curious.
His smile dashing right, Ramses indulged in another sip of champagne.
“You don’t get it that easy,” he said, lowering his flute. His eyes danced. “You made me wait after all. You want to know, you get the info with a caveat.”
I didn’t want to know what happened that bad.
But I did want to know.
Playing his game, I deposited another empty flute on the tray of a passing waiter. “What are the terms?”
And if he said another game of thumb war, I’d laugh him out of this place. We weren’t doing that, ridiculous, but I was curious what he wanted from me.
Finishing his champagne, Ramses dropped off his flute as well before taking my hand. I started to protest until he pressed his hard body into my side.
“Come with me,” he said, his voice playful, excited. “I got a place to show you. You agree to check it out, I’ll tell you there. It’s in the city. Won’t take long.”
He was in no place to bargain with me. Especially if it allowed him to whisk me off someplace.