The Eyes That Own Me (Timing is Everything Book 1)

by Rebecca Fischer

  Oh my hot damn.

  I look back up to her face to see a shy smile on her face. I can see some pink in her cheeks, too. Either she was checking me out as well, or I made her blush with my perusing. Let’s go with both.

  All I can manage is a breathy, “Wow.”

  She turns pink again, tugs on her earlobe, and smiles. “I could say the same thing.”

  I didn’t even notice the hostess already left. Charlie and I are both standing here like two strangers on a blind date. I take another step forward and kiss her on the cheek. “You look beyond amazing, Charlotte.”

  That cute little smile comes out again. “Thank you. So do you.”

  I gently touch her elbow and lead her to the booth, letting her slide in. Even touching her sets my skin on fire. I consider sliding in next to her then decide against it. She might not like that nor will I be able to look her straight in the face. I have to be able to see those gorgeous eyes.

  “Thank you for joining me tonight, Charlotte.”

  She chuckles a bit. “Honestly, you’re a pretty tough man to resist. You didn’t stop after I said no the first time, which either meant you’re arrogant or really wanted to go out. I figured you deserved a chance at least. Especially after you recruited my brother.”

  I smile at her. “I’m glad you did. You won’t regret this. We will take this slow. I know you have some reservations, and I hope to set all of the records straight tonight. I’ll lay it out for you. I’m not interested in one night or anything casual. I’m interested in you and building something with you. We’ve been getting to know each a bit over the last few weeks. I believe we are least friends, but honestly, I want more from you. From us.”

  Her face slightly hardens a bit before she asks, “But how can you know we’re right for each other so quickly? You don’t really know me, and I don’t know everything about you. How can you be so sure that once you get to know me that you will still like me?”

  Her questions are valid. I hope to set her mind at ease a bit when I tell her, “We just have to try. We’ve both admitted to noticing each other last term in passing. I have a feeling that our timing seems to work out. I’ve always been a man who works for what he wants. It’s okay to be nervous and scared. All I ask is that you continue to be honest with me. Communication is very important to me. I can’t read your mind. Your face and body, sure. What’s inside you will have to be told eventually”.

  I can see I’ve overwhelmed her a bit. I stay quiet for a bit while my words process inside that gorgeous head of hers. Whenever she starts to get nervous, she starts to give a little tug on her earlobe. I didn’t notice until now that it’s not pierced. That’s strange. I reach across the table and pull the hand away from her ear and hold it between mine, rubbing her wrist with my thumbs. The goose bumps evident on her skin.

  “You don’t have to be nervous around me. Just take a few deep breaths and we’ll see where everything takes us.”

  She inhales and exhales a few times with her eyes closed. I really can’t avoid watching her bewitching face relax more and more. She reopens her eyes, which are now bright and shining.

  She gives me a small but happy smile. “You were right; this is getting easier. I like that we have a decent amount in common so far, and I really appreciate everything you’ve done despite our first encounters. I’ll admit it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten the attention you’ve given me."

  "Well, keep expecting it. Although, first things first. This is a strange question. Why don't you have your ears pierced? I don't even see any hole scars."

  She starts laughing a little. "Of all the questions you could ask, that is such a small and random one."

  "I did tell you I wanted to get to know you. Little things like that are important to me. Fair warning, I have a thousand more ready to bombard you with."

  She tucks her hair that had fallen over her ear again. "With all of the sports I played growing up, my friends had to keep taking them out before each game for safety reasons, and I just figured why waste the time"—she takes another deep breath as if she's about to confess to a preacher—"Plus, the piercing process involves needles, which I am deathly afraid to get near. I hate all of it. Flu shots, blood drawings, you name it. No tattoos, no piercings, and no IVs if I can avoid it. Kylie and Aaron have tattoos. I am one hundred percent too chicken."

  Slightly amused by her rant, I reassure her, "That is nothing to be ashamed about. I mean I'm not as scared of needles as you are. I get the standard physicals and flu shots every year. I don't have tattoos because I haven't found anything I've wanted to see on my body for the rest of my life."

  "I do love the artistry involved, though. The details some tattoo artists can do are amazing. I can't draw to save my life. My friend, Bree, is the artist of the group. She designed the tattoos that Aaron and Kylie have. They are so colorful and vibrant even though they have a sad backstory."

  Curiosity gets the better of me. "Do you mind if I ask what the story is?"

  She takes a deep breath. I guess she didn't expect herself to mention the sadness of the tattoos.

  Tears form in her eyes. They're starting to lose some light in them, which makes my heart sink as she begins her story.

  "Kylie had an older brother. Bryce. He was also Aaron's best friend. A drunk driver killed him when he was twenty-five. His favorite animal was a wolf, so both of them got wolf claws scratching through their skin. It's their way of saying he scratched his way into their hearts and planted himself there forever. The claws themselves are gray, black, and white, but as they pull through the skin, they bring out streaks of different greens and blues to match the color of Bryce's eyes."

  She pulls a silver chain out. "I have this necklace." It's the one I saw peeking through the first time I saw her at the concert. It's a wolf claw pendant with the name Bryce written across.

  She looks down at her hands and swipes away a stray tear. "I have the claw close to my heart. He was a second big brother to me. Everyone loved him. He was the guy you wanted to be in your corner. Anyone knew within seconds of meeting him that he was the most generous and kind human being around. He was helping my mom with the community center, and she had planned to pass everything to him with the board's approval so she could retire. He was pretty much running the after school programs."

  As she closes her eyes while expelling a few deep breaths, I decide to take a big risk.

  I get up from my side of the table and move next to her. I put my arm around her and pull her close to me, letting her scent envelop me. That just broke my heart. She lays her head on my shoulder and doesn't shed any more tears. This girl's strength continues to astound me. I kiss the top of her head, letting the feel of her soft hair tickle my nose.

  She looks up at me, eyes shimmering from the moisture of the tears. Her voice is shaky. "I'm sorry I made this a depressing conversation."

  I give her shoulder a squeeze. "Angel, it meant you were comfortable enough to tell me about him. I hate seeing you sad like this. It's practically killing me. But if he was such an important part of your life, I'm glad you told me. I want you to be able to open up and take the mask off with me."

  Cupping her face, I wipe the little bit of make-up that smeared under eyes. I can feel her breath on my neck. It's warm and inviting. I'm falling for this woman quickly. My eyes, heart, and head are wide-open going into this. I hope she'll join me on this crazy ride.

  To make sure I don't spook her, I take my arm from around her, and her eyes show a little bit of apprehension in my action.

  "Don't worry; I'm not going to move back to the other side of the table. Is that okay? I just want to be close to you right now."

  She nods back, and her next move shocks the hell out of me. She grabs my silverware and the appetizer plates and moves them over to our side of the table.

  Our new banter goes to movie talk. I've tried to keep class talk off the table. We’re both there three days a week, but she has one extra class during the day. We ca
n always talk about our classwork when we are actually there.

  Shaking her head at me, she chides in disbelief, "I can't believe you’re a Will Ferrell fan. He does the same thing every movie. Always has to have a scene where he's screaming his head off and wearing a ridiculous costume."

  "Oh come on, you have to admit that The Other Guys was one of his best movies. I know some were better left unmade, but it's his shtick."

  "The Other Guys had Mark Wahlberg in it. Everything is better with Mark Wahlberg in it. Especially, if he takes his shirt off or speaks."

  Someone has a crush on Marky Mark. Her cheeks turn pink again. I swear I'm going to start finding ways to see how to make that happen as often as possible.

  Teasing her a little bit more, "Who else do you enjoy watching without their shirts intact?"

  "Matt, you can't be jealous. Guys have half naked supermodels on magazines and James Bond girls to stare at. Let us women enjoy the eight-pack abs that belong to Channing Tatum and Ryan Gosling."

  Holding my hands up in surrender, I offer, "Alright. Alright. No need to start a list. However, if I get added to the top of this list, I wouldn't object. I don't have an eight-pack, but I hope my solid six-pack will put me in the running. You do know I work out regularly. Got to keep in shape for intramurals."

  Sarcastically I reply, "Yes, I'm sure you and your friends sit around, beers in hands, talking about how many pushups and crunches you guys can do in under a minute."

  "No, it's actually a lot of one-word caveman grunts before we go drown our sore muscles at a pool table since we have no women to tend to our masculine pride."

  She gives me a nudge with her shoulder while laughing at me. I'd gladly take my shirt off for her in the middle of winter if I got the same reaction out of her. Imagining her hands massaging into my skin isn’t helping the matter of my dick straining in my pants.

  I'm already trying to plan date number two in my head now that she brought up my friends. This time, I'm hoping she’ll agree quicker than she did for this one.

  Everything he has said tonight is just a little nerve-wracking. Okay, I'm lying. It's more than a little nerve-wracking. It's downright terrifying to believe. No guy has ever made this much effort for me to feel comfortable.

  Ever.

  In truth, I'm still slightly paranoid about everything with him and his friends. Who's to say they aren't just good actors?

  I usually keep my guard up with new people in the first place, questioning most of their motives.

  I remember my talk with Kylie from Angels a few weeks ago. She said being cautious is a good thing most of the time. She told me to at least give Matt a chance to show me the kind of man he is. If I get too scared, I can 911 her from the bathroom. She promised she would call me with an 'emergency that needs Charlie's help right now.'

  I was pretty relieved when he picked Drake's. I love their food. Nothing's as good as the food my family or the Mitchell's can cook, but Drake's comes close. I love their fried appetizer selections, and I hope he'll let me pick one because I've been craving fried green beans all day.

  Right as Matt's about to say something else, the waiter comes over, interrupting our conversation. "Hey guys, I'm Damon, and I'll be serving you. How are we tonight?"

  Matt smiles at me, then turns to the waiter. "Couldn't be better, man, how about you?"

  The waiter nods and replies, "I'm good. What can I get y’all to drink? We have a two-for-one special on our house wines and liquors tonight along with half price draft beer."

  Matt turns to me. "Ladies first."

  I look up at Damon. "I'm just going to have a sweet tea please."

  He writes it down and then waits for Matt's answer. "I'll have a draft Budweiser and water please."

  The waiter scribbles again. "Alright, I'll be back in a minute with your drinks and to take your order. Did you want any appetizers to put in at the moment?" Matt looks at me as if to say, 'go ahead.'

  "Fried green beans with two ranch dips please." Damon gives me a small smile and replies with the standard, 'excellent choice, ma'am,' then walks away.

  Matt laughs, "I have to admit, I've never tried fried green beans before. I'm not big on fried vegetables."

  His statement doesn't surprise me. I tell him, "Most people never seem to like them. Kylie makes fun of me all the time. She's a super picky eater, so I never give her a hard time. Aaron always lets me get them and will eat a few."

  He looks at me straight in the eye when he says, "Honey, they are still fried up. It ruins the vegetable aspect of it."

  Well doesn't that kind of hurt my feelings a bit. However, I'm used to this response about my eating habits. I recover quickly and smile while saying, "Fried green beans are amazing, and it's okay if you hate them. If you've never at least even tried them, you're missing out."

  I pick up my menu, look for my favorite entrée, and then put my menu back down. I look up at Matt to see him watching me. Our eyes connect, and he looks like he was about to say something, again, when the waiter comes with our drinks and the green beans. Dude has bad timing. He places extra napkins on the table.

  "Are you guys ready to order entrees?" I order the whiskey glazed brisket sliders and fries while Matt orders the Cajun shrimp pasta.

  I pick up a crispy bean, blow the steam off, dip in the ranch, and then take a bite of the tastiness. Mmmmm so good. Moaning and smiling, I double dip into my little cup. I look over at Matt who’s staring at me with severe heat in his chocolate eyes. They look almost black against his shirt. I melt in my boots with just that one look.

  "What? Do I have ranch on my face?"

  He shakes his head and coughs a second before replying, "No, I'm just trying to maintain composure right now." He looks at me dead in the eye again. "If eating those weird looking monstrosities will give you that smile you have now, I will stuff my face every day."

  Crap on a cracker. I can feel myself blushing. He takes one off the platter, dips into the second ranch cup and takes a bite.

  He looks shocked. "Holy shit that's pretty good."

  "Haha, I told you. I may have weird eating habits, but I will try almost anything before I form an opinion."

  He smiles all wide with that beautiful set of lips. "Well, you got me there."

  Not too long later, the waiter brings our entrees out, and we both dig in. Jeez, I love this place.

  Talking to Matt is surprisingly easy. He asked me what other foods I like, especially when I'm just snacking at home. That turns into a debate on what to eat while watching movies. We like most of the same type of movies and food. He tells me about some of the best restaurants in Chicago and how he just had to eat there when he went back over break.

  He's really funny. I'm starting to get more relaxed around him. It's a scary and a happy feeling.

  When all the plates have cleared, I notice the waiter still hasn't brought the check. I look over at Matt who is staring at me intently. He asks, "What's wrong?"

  "I don't mean to be rude. I'm just wondering why the waiter hasn't brought the check yet?"

  Raising one eyebrow. "Trying to get rid of me already?"

  "No. I just wanted to give my card for my part."

  His face gets stone serious all of a sudden. His voice is kind yet stern at the same time when he tells me, "Charlotte, no matter where we go or what we do, I will take care of you. If I see you try to pay for anything while we're together, I will take you over my knee."

  Nervously, I respond, "That's twice now you've said that." I can't help but love the idea of his hands rubbing on me.

  "It will be earned." His face softens a bit. "I understand your reasoning for when you thought this was a bet or joke. I told you what happened. The guys were making fun of me. I ditched them to talk to you, which hasn't happened since we were in college. It was nothing about you, I swear. They feel bad enough for making you feel that way. This time, though, it's because you have yet to trust me. I get that, and I will prove to you that you can. You're not afra
id to be honest with me, which is awesome. I'm not into games."

  "Just...continue to be patient with me okay? I'm rusty enough as it is with dating."

  "That's okay, we're still getting to know each other. You have no idea how happy I am that you said yes. Like I said, I will prove this to you. After tonight, I hope you will agree to another date. I would also like to invite you to watch my intramural basketball game next week. You would get to meet some of the guys and be my cheerleader."

  "There are no cheerleaders for the intramural games, you goof. The Broxton cheerleading team itself is a joke."

  He shoots me a sly smile. "Well, I just want you to be my personal one. The other guys can fend for themselves."

  I chuckle to hide my fear of meeting his friends. "You don't have to introduce me to your friends right away. I do agree with you that we've at least become friends, and I'll admit we have a lot more in common than I thought. I do like basketball. Are you going to play any others?"

  Stretching his arm around my shoulder again, he seems to get comfortable in our booth. "Let's see. This semester, I’m also playing baseball. It's pretty much the same group of guys that I met last semester when I played football. I was disappointed there wasn't even a street hockey team. How is it that Broxton doesn't have a football team? I thought football was a requirement in the South."

  Trying to push past the images of his sweaty muscles running up and down the court and the baseball field, which totally explains his fantastic body, I manage to keep my fantasies aside until later.

  "When I was in high school, a lot of the people who were hoping for athletic scholarships wanted to leave Aiken for better school divisions. I played volleyball and soccer in high school competitively but for undergrad, I just played for fun."

  Taking my hand in his, he starts playing with the fingers. "How come you don't play now? I'd love to see you in action."

  He stares up and down my body again, and I enjoy his dark walnut eyes on me. He makes me feel like I’m the only woman he sees this whole time, and it's been a great date.