44. Friday Evening Week Eighteen (the restaurant.)

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44. Friday Evening Week Eighteen (the restaurant.)

A sick smile crept onto his face when he caught sight of me and his eyes completed a grotesque scan of my body making me shiver in complete revulsion.

I put everything in me into containing the grimace that I was desperate to exhibit.

"Reillyn," he said upon me stopping by his table

"Vincent," I replied pulling out my own chair opposite him and taking a seat. I took a moment to scan the restaurant, admiring the burgundy walls and low lighting. There was a bar in the centre of the room, glasses hanging upside down like a ring of crystal around the top. The barmaid smiled at me from behind her counter — she was safe there, concealed and tucked away from Vincent and his disgusting charms.

"You look stunning in that dress."

Bringing my attention back to the pig in front of me I arched a brow, "only in this dress?"

He leant forward on the table, his dark blonde hair was slicked back with gel and it only served to make the menacing glint in his navy eyes seem more prominent, "well, I'm sure you would look better out of it."

Deciding to keep up with the flirty banter, I gave him what I hoped was a flirty smile, "if this date goes well, you might just find out."

A dark brow arched in surprise at my sultry reply, "what bout Ryker?

Trying to appear nonchalant, I shrugged, "what about him?"

Vincent clasped his hands together and placed his elbows on the table. His face turned to stone and his sinister glare deepened, "the last time I spoke to Ryker about you, he beat the shit out of me."

Nervousness dowsed me suddenly as I wiped my hands on my bare thighs nervously and grappled for an excuse, "well, that was in the past and it wasn't out of care," I breathed out and reminded myself that this was all an act, nothing I was saying was true, "he just did it because he's possessive, he never actually gave a shit."

I finished my statement with a careless shrug and a tentative sip of water — stupid underage drinking bullshit, I was desperate for some alcohol.

At my explanation, the dark look on his face immediately flashed back into a disgustingly flirty expression, "that's lucky for us then."

Another cautious sip of water, before flashing a smile I prayed didn't look fake, "yeah," I breathed, "lucky for us."

"I'm sure you don't mind, sweetheart," I cringed at the nickname, "but I have already ordered for us."

I did mind actually and my mind replayed the time Eli and I had gone out for luscious desserts and he had told me to order as much as I liked, the reminiscent thought made my current situation seem even bleaker.

"I'm curious, what made you reach out, Reillyn?" He inquisitioned with his stubby fingernails rapping gently against the thin glass cup of his wine.

Although it shouldn't have, his question took me off guard and I found myself struggling to formulate a comprehensible sentence, "well, I-I."

Words evaded me as my mind lost control of my mouth. All I could think about was Eli and how badly I wished I was with him right now. Vincent's crude smile and pressed suit only served to heighten my dislike of him and furthered my discomfort — I wanted out.

"Ah, I see," he proclaimed, leaning back casually in his dining chair, "you do not need to be ashamed of your attraction to me, Reillyn, I understand it must have been hard to feel that way when you were dating my brother."

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