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Elliot finishes her drink and I order another for us. “Go lightly,” I warn, “this isn’t your normal martini. It has Crème de Violette for the floral and vanilla notes, which are enhanced by the kick of Cutty Sark hundred proof that gives a chocolatey depth, and it’s cut by lemon juice, and elevated by the honey syrup.”
“You’re reading the ingredients.”
“True. But they used spiced honey, with a touch of black pepper and the hint of salt and complex lemon.”
Her gaze is on me as her finger taps against the stem of her glass. She’s got a little glow from the buzz of the booze and it only enhances her. I called her beautiful because women are beautiful. But she’s not plain like I first thought. But I also don’t think she’s beautiful in that sense of the word. There’s something there that makes her way more interesting than beautiful or pretty or plain.
She’s both confident and vulnerable. In command and deliberately tries to chameleon herself into whatever situation she’s in, so she goes unseen. But once you see Elliot Perry, good luck unseeing her.
She’s got a sweetness and she’s prickly as fuck.
Sharp, too. I like her intelligence.
And maybe I’ve had one too many of these damn drinks. It’s when they’re blended so perfectly and they don’t taste like booze that they get you.
“Yes?”
“That’s the preserved lemon they use. And I bet they slide some into the lemon juice, too.”
I don’t want to go home. Sure, I love being out. I love meeting people, or I should say, women. I love what happens when I do go home, or to wherever it might be so I can give and take pleasure. But right now? I like being here. With Elliot.
Holy shit, I could spend time with her and not be trying to not imagine her naked. Not going there. I could do that, because I like spending actual time, clothes on, with her.
I also liked kissing her.
But kissing is an art that is always good.
That kiss, though… It had been spectacular.
Maybe because it was what it was. A lovely thing that had no agenda attached. Private agenda.
“Is this your way of telling me you wanted to be a bartender?”
I laugh. “Mixologist. No. But if you know how things work, then you get more from them.”
“So that’s why you’re so good with women.”
I’m really not sure what to say. She keeps blindsiding me with things that never blindsided me in the past.
I know she thinks I’m hot. But she also isn’t interested in flirting. And she keeps taking things I say the wrong way. It’s like I’ve stepped into a version of the world when I’m with her that I don’t quite understand.
And that’s a good thing. Because I need not to be sidetracked. I also think we’re becoming friends. Which is both weird and good, and I know I can work with that.
Elliot glances at her watch then back at me. “I think we’ve stayed out long enough to make it look good. Let’s call it a night.”
Something like disappointment overtakes me, even though I nod.
Being with Elliot is fun. She’s weird and cool and I can talk to her. I can talk to anyone, anytime, but this is different. Like there’s a layer of something missing, making this easy, like we connect. It just is.
That keeps returning to me as I pay the final bill and we get our things and go.
The ease with her. The natural flow.
Elliot Perry is intriguing in more ways than one.
Out on the street, I turn to her. “We could walk.”
“Are you offering to walk me home, Ryder?” she asks.
