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22: The Jealousy

"What would you like to drink?" My lips quirk up in a quick, sly smile as I sit and slide into the booth - well, at least he's asking me.

"I'll have what you're having, please." See! I can play nice and behave myself. Amused, he orders another glass of moat and slides in opposite me.

"They have an excellent wine cellar here," he says, cocking his head to one side. Putting his elbows on the table, he steeples his fingers in front of his beautiful mouth, his neon eyes alive with some unreadable emotion. And there it is... that familiar pull and charges from him, it connects somewhere deep inside me. I shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny, my heart palpitating. I must keep my cool.

"Are you nervous?" he asks softly.

"Yes," I replied.

He leans forward. "Me too," he whispers.

Conspiratorially. My eyes shoot up to meet his. Him?Nervous. Never. I blink at him, and

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