Heartstrings

(8) Kelly

Kelly

I have successfully dodged potential encounters with Mitchell in the last few days. My parents has been busy decorating the lawn and even if Mitchell was helping out, I stayed out of sight as possible.

Like hiding behind the curtain while I watch him haul the stepladder with so much ease so dad can put up the Christmas lights. I have done so on a few occasions and am confident that I haven't been caught ogling.

However, when Jake and Annie suggested we grab dinner at the restaurant where Mitchell works, I have no way out. Besides, it's not like there's a fifty-one percent chance that we're going to see him tonight because he's working the kitchen.

Annie went on and on about the crib she and Craig bought the other day while I tried very hard to pay attention. Because my eyes couldn't stop scouring the restaurant for the chef.

He wasn't hard to spot because Annie is now waving him over. And also because he was looking gloriously hot in a chef uniform.

Our gazes touched.

My throat went dry.

Jake leapt out of his chair and gave his buddy a one-arm hug. He offered the seat next to me since it's the only one not occupied. Our shoulders grazed.

I stiffened.

So does he.

My siblings chatted away. And I pretended my eggnog was the most interesting thing in the world when deep down, my hormones are in shambles because of the man next to me that I know I'm not entitled to touch but wants to anyway. Really badly.

He looked engrossed with the conversation and hardly affected like I am. Maybe he was immune to my feminine "charms." Which I'd understand however bitter it was to swallow.

Unable to help myself, I brush my leg against his, hoping I made it look like it wasn't my intention.

He froze, but wasn't "repulsed" so I guess it worked.

I shifted, pressing my leg even closer.

Across the table, Annie was showing our brother pictures of a rocking chair she planned on getting from Home Depot.

Mitchell clears his throat, slightly turning his head to my ear. "Kelly," he whispers, his voice coming out husky.

My breath hitched. "Yeah?"

"You'll get more than just my leg on you if you don't stop." His hand grazed my thigh as if to emphasize his warning.

My breath whooshes out in a quiet pant at the feel of his fingers. My cheeks flushed. I was burning from inside out. In the deepest corner of my mind, I want more than just his leg.

Jake bellowed a loud laugh from across the table. I snapped out of my thoughts. Sinful thoughts, I might add.

"I think it's late. We should probably go." Annie dabs her fingers on the corners of her eyes as if she'd been laughing herself. "Oh. Perfect timing. Craig's here."

I stood up from my chair. Mitchell stepped aside to give way. I mustered enough politeness to acknowledge Craig, but noticed the drunken sway of his steps and thought better of it.

He made his way to our table, greeting my twin with a grin. I know Annie is aware her husband has had more than a couple of drinks despite of knowing the fact that he's going to drive his pregnant wife home. If she can ignore it, I can't.

"Craig, you're drunk," I snapped.

He turns to me with a humorless laugh. "Oh, Kelly. Suddenly better than us for turning into a fuckable city chick?"

My sister clamped a hand around his arm. "Craig, let's just go."

He sneered at me. "You got all fancy and now you think you're better than us. Tell me, Kelly, how does it feel up in that high horse? To be all high and mighty? How many men did you have to spread your legs for to get where you are?"

"Watch it." Mitchell stepped forward, his hand tugging me to his side. Maybe out of habit. Because he was always there whenever I needed saving.

Craig regarded us. "You're still playing hero to that arrogant bitch?" He laughed harshly.

"Craig, just go home. Annie is staying with me tonight." Jake protectively ushered my twin to his side.

Craig ignored him. "Still a lost puppy without her? It's not too late to grow some balls and move on. She's too fancy for you now anyway. All dolled up all the time."

My hands curled into a fist. I surged forward. His face whipped to the right and his hand covered his cheek where I slapped him hard.