G is for Gerry (Men of ALPHAbet Mountain) - Page 15

I hadn’t really noticed it when everything happened; I was too blind with embarrassment and rage at myself to really take him in. But now, leaning against one crutch, I was able to really look at him.

He was tall, with broad shoulders and a square chin with soft eyes and full lips. He looked like a model. Wendy seemed to indicate that he was single, but that couldn’t be. He was easily the most attractive person in the room, male or female. He looked a bit older than me, probably in his early thirties, but that only made him more attractive. He was grown. A man. Not like the frat boys that hit on me in college or the old executive guys who made passes while I was interning.

I made my way over, and right before I got to his booth, he looked over at me and our eyes locked. I stopped cold, my heart skipping a beat, and forced myself to swallow. His eyes were bright green, and the smile that stretched across his face at recognizing me was enough to make my one remaining leg weak.

“Malia,” he said.

“You… know my name?” I asked. “Oh, right, you talked to Wendy about me.”

He seemed to shuffle uneasily in his seat and then stood awkwardly.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “It was an impulse because I was worried that I may have said or done something to offend you.”

His voice had a singsong quality and a luscious rolling accent to it. It was deep, like a French lullaby. He motioned to the seat across from him, and I nodded, moving to one crutch and hopping until I could sling myself into the booth. I took the crutches and pulled them into the booth with me awkwardly, sweeping the hair that fell across my face back behind my ear.

He was so hot. Like, stupid hot. I had to somehow figure out how to get through this conversation without saying that out loud, and I was kind of mad at both Wendy and my sister for not properly warning me. Then again, they both assumed I had already seen him and knew, so it probably wasn’t their fault.

“I wanted to come talk to you to apologize,” I began.

“No worries,” he said, sitting back down across from me. “Are you hungry? Can I get you something?”

“No,” I said, taken aback a bit. “I’m fine. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’ve just been through a lot recently and…”

“I forgive you,” he said, smiling. “It’s okay. Wendy told me a bit about your recent history. I am very sorry to hear about your accident.”

My accident. Of course. I was worthy of pity to him and probably everyone else I would ever meet. It would be the first thing they saw until I got my prosthetic. No one was going to treat me like an adult, not even if I acted like a total bitch. Because I was missing my leg.

“Thank you,” I said. “But my leg is no excuse. I was clumsy and then rude. Then rude again. You tried to help me, and I repaid you with a bad attitude. So, for that I am sorry.”

“Forgiven,” he said. The smile had never wavered from his face.

Part of me was upset that he wasn’t upset. For one, I had worked myself up about this so much, and for him to just be so casual about how this wasn’t a big deal was deflating. But on the other hand, I also kind of wanted him to be somewhat miffed, because in the back of my mind, way back where secrets could be kept from even my main consciousness, I wanted to find a way to make it up to him. Preferably without clothes on.

A vision of what he might look like without the tight white T-shirt and flannel with rolled-up sleeves and unbuttoned top buttons ran through my mind like a freight train, and I shook it off. No time for that now. No time and no reason. It wasn’t like a guy like him, with the kind of looks he had and being older and more sophisticated, would ever be interested in a girl with a missing leg. Much less a girl my age with a missing leg.

I smiled.

“Well, thank you,” I said. “That is very nice of you. Probably way nicer than I would be at any rate.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You seem nice too.”

“I can be,” I said. “I can also be a raging bitch. Like I was the other day.”

“I feel like you are most likely much more one than the other,” he said. “With beauty like yours, I doubt too many people give you reason to be mean.”

His eyes were locked on mine, and I felt a chill run down my back and warmth between my thighs. If I didn’t find a way to get back to Wendy, that smile was going to get me into trouble. And that accent was going to make it double.

Tags: Natasha L. Black Erotic
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