Chris' friends are nice enough. Aaron Sanders is his childhood friend. Apparently, they even went to Scheller together, and he currently works as an Accountant at a prestigious law firm. His other friend, Cole Hampton, seems a lot different from the both of them; a creative mind like Halle and I. He works as a photographer at Kingston & Co., an explicit, Atlanta-made magazine that's known for its raw black and white, unfiltered, nude photos.
Even I have to admit that Chris' friends are attractive. Shit, Chris himself is predominantly good-looking, so I guess beautiful people really do stick together.
Cole seems to be a lady's man, as he flirts with pretty much every woman who doesn't have a man within his sight. He even makes his move on some who do.
I eye him warily now, as he sits in a chair across from me. His arms are wrapped around two college girls, both blonde, as they sit on his lap. They giggle and whisper into his ear, and he raises his eyebrows up at me seeming to say, 'what can you do'.
I shake my head at him and tsk with an amused smile, only halfway joking.
Cole's mouth curls up into a smirk.
Aaron is a clean-shaven, presentable man. His dark hair lays against his forehead, but is lined up in the back. His blue eyes sparkle in the club lights above as he makes conversation, giving all of his attention to Halle.
Halle spends her time on the black, leather lounge chair, just inches away from where Aaron is sitting. I can always tell when she actually likes someone as opposed to just being flirtatious, as she pays more attention to their topic of conversation and nods a lot more frequently while speaking.
I glance over at her from my position on the couch. Her cheeks are rosy, and she's grinning shyly as Aaron expresses an interest in her design work. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she explains her thought process behind an advertisement she designed for a client.
"They've certainly taken a liking to each other," Chris says from his seat next to me. His pleasant signature scent has latched itself onto my brain—I would recognize that smell anywhere.
I nod my head with a smile, not trusting myself to say anything in his presence. But my body has a mind of its own.
I turn towards him fully. I can't stop my gaze from gliding down his gray, buttoned shirt, from envisioning the strong muscles that lie underneath the thin fabric. I envision his arms wrapping around my waist in a rough but oh so tender way.
My breath comes out a little heavier now, but I'm positive the volume of the music is far too loud for him to notice. I take a daring look into his bright, hazel eyes, and pull my bottom lip between my teeth.
Chris shifts a little in his seat, but then his eyes lower and his gaze drifts to all parts of my body. I get the feeling this isn't the first time he's checked me out tonight. I can't exactly be mad. I mean, I dressed like I'm asking for attention. Which I kind of am.
It's not like I get much of it at home, anyway.
I make a bold move. Placing a hand on top of his, I stare deeply into his eyes. I can't help the surge of electricity that zaps its way up my arm and into the pit of my stomach as our skin touches. I hear a sharp but quiet inhale from Chris, and I know he must have felt it, too.
Maybe it's the fact that he basically saved me from a creep earlier, or that he's always been so nice to me no matter what I've said to him, but I feel a strong pull towards him. A gravitational shift in the universe as if I'm meant to have him in my life.
Our bodies are so close now, and I'm vaguely aware of the other people that surround us, but I don't care anymore. I swipe my tongue over my bottom lip, an invitation, and slowly lean into the sweet scent of his cologne as I close my eyelids. I can feel the warmth of his skin, hear his short, rugged breaths as I draw closer and closer.
My mind tells me that this is wrong, that I shouldn't even be thinking these things; but my body won't listen. It's like it's on its own war path, damned be the repercussions.
"Vanessa..." Chris pleads in a gruff voice, breaking me from my trance.
My eyes snap open, and I am jerked back into the harsh reality of our unethical scenario. A tidal wave of humiliation washes over me instantly.
Chris' eyes are unreadable.
"I just thought..." I begin, flustered, not really sure where my words are headed.
He shakes his head.
"We can't," he states, removing my hand from his. "There are a million reasons why we can't."
He runs a hand through his hair, seemingly frustrated, and then looks back at me with those haunting, green eyes.
I know he's right. I'm married, I have a family, and he's also my boss.
I turn away from him, the humiliation I feel attempting to make its appearance on my face. I signal Halle to leave. We've been in the V.I.P section for almost an hour, and I've drank way too much free champagne.
Halle giggles as Aaron whispers something into her ear.
"You ready, Hal?" I say in a small voice, the desperation I'm trying so hard to hide slipping from my lips and out into the open.
"Um, actually I think Aaron and I were gonna go to a bar for some drinks..." she says warily as she glances back at Aaron.
I smile, happy that Halle has found love. Even if it's just for the night.
"It's not a problem," I say. "Go! Have some fun. That'll makeone of us..." I say the last part under my breath. Halle and Aaron stand up from their seats, preparing to leave.
"What about you?" Halle asks, her perfectly filled brows knitting together.
I open my mouth to tell her that I'll be fine, but Chris beats me to it.
"I can take her home. I live that way anyway," he assures her.
I let out an agitated huff.
Being in the car, alone with him for a good forty-five minutes just might kill me. But the small events that had just transpired between Chris and I are lost on Halle through the rose-colored glasses she wears for Aaron.
"Great!" she grins, and then she's gone, hand in hand with Aaron. Like a couple of damn school kids.
Chris says his farewells to Cole, who's now hitting on a redhead by the bar, before turning to me with serious eyes as he moves in my direction.
"Don't." I turn on my heel and storm out of the club and into the cool and crisp Autumn air. My tantrum is cut short when I realize that I don't know where he's parked his car.
YOU ARE READING
For A Reason
ChickLit"I just thought..." I begin, flustered, not really sure where my words are headed. He shakes his head. "We can't," he states, removing my hand from his. "There are a million reasons why we can't." He runs a hand through his hair, seemingly frustrate...
