Lust. || BEYNIKA

L|Chapter EIGHTEEN

Beyoncé BK Knowles

I glance at my watch for what feels like the millionth time, wondering where the hell Onika is. She's close to twenty minutes late, and I know for a fact she's ridiculously punctual.

With the exception of tonight when she's meeting me. Shit.

Drumming my fingers atop the white tablecloth in a steady rhythm, I glare at the entrance to the restaurant. I hate it when people make me wait. In business, I flat out don't tolerate it. That this woman I've known since she was a gangly teenager with a mouthful of metal leaves me waiting almost desperately for her arrival blows my mind.

And rarely is my mind blown. Funny, how the one person who keeps doing it on a regular basis is Onika.

She's angry with me. I could hear it in her voice when I spoke to her on the phone. It had taken me two days to work up the courage to call her. Like a complete wuss, I rehearsed that conversation in my mind a thousand times.

The reality had turned out worse than my imagination. At least I got her to agree to see me. But what if she decides not to show and leaves me hanging?

I push the thought from my mind, refusing to acknowledge it for even a minute.

"Another drink?" The waitress appears, her gaze full of sympathy. She probably thinks I've been stood up.

Hell, I've never been stood up in my life. "I'm fine," I mutter.

"Perhaps you'd like to order dinner? An appetizer, maybe?" She sounds hopeful and I'm beyond ready to crush her dreams.

Shaking my head, I glare at her. "I'll wait a few more minutes."

She takes off after flashing me a wan smile, leaving me to brood. If Onika doesn't show, I can hire someone else to do this job. It wouldn't be a problem, there's a goddamn list of designers who would give up their first born to work with Knowles.

But damn it, I trust her. I want her. And not just for her amazing design skills.

She isn't just Onika. Could I really fall for her? Why else would I act like such an anxious asshole? This woman has me so twisted up in knots I'm ready to do anything to have her back in my life.

Anything.

Scowling, I glare at the door, as if that'll make her magically appear. I'm thinking like a chick but I can't deny it. I want her with me all the damn time. It's scary how bad I need her. Trying to ignore her didn't work. I went almost an entire month without contacting her, but she's all I could think about. The moment I get into the city, I'm reaching for the phone, demanding that she meet me.

I remember how put out she sounded on the phone, her voice full of irritation. The first indication I'm most likely going to screw this up.

Damn. I cannot screw it up.

And then there's the stupid bet. Aubrey sends me the occasional email asking on my dating situation. Hell, he haunts my Facebook page, probably just waiting for me to change my status from "single" to "in a relationship".

As if I ever would do that. I know his ass is watching. I won't give him the satisfaction.

The front door opens, letting in a gust of cold air that chills my skin, sends a rush of awareness through me that nearly steals my breath. She enters the dimly lit restaurant, windblown and gorgeous, her curvy body covered by a black coat. I greedily drink her in as Onika pushes wild strands of long  black hair away from her face, her gaze searching the room before those pretty black eyes light upon me.