Temptation

Chapter Three

A/N: Hey, I just wanted to say that Luke belongs to MeTheDumbBlonde! And no one else can have him! x3 

Oh, and I finally got that description of the characters everyone was asking for, so yay! Now you have a better thought of them! Oh, and don't forget to comment with your opinion, vote, and fan! <3

~Beautifully Awkward. <3

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Sitting here in front of what is really a stranger, I feel as if I can’t let my guard down for one second. He seems perfectly relaxed. On a rather—pity date I suppose.

               I watch him, as he looks out of the window. I wonder what people thought of seeing me with him—in this booth, on a rather romantic starry night.

               Our waitress comes by with a bowl of breadsticks, and a menu. “A bowl of breadsticks for the lovely cou—”—she looks over at me, and her faces drains—"Fallon?” she whispers my name, and it sounds incredulous coming from her mouth. My heart thumps quickly inside my chest—it was our number one waitress—Jesse.

           Alistair looks up at her, and she takes a step back in shock, but she quickly collects herself. Jesse was a cool girl, she wouldn’t tell on me - I hope. Then again, this isn’t a normal situation.

              Of course, considering this is my dad’s favorite restaurant she would have to know who I was. She clears her throat, and places the breadsticks down on the table. “Who is this lovely gentleman?” she smiles eagerly.  

               I never took the time to really observe how he looked. He wasn’t built with broad shoulders, but average. He was a bit lanky, and pale. His hair was inky black and disheveled, and now that I take him in as she brings it to my attention - he is hauntingly perfect. His face well defined—his whole body well defined. He was every girls heartthrob....every girl with a taste for bad boys I mean. Now that I also think about, he is always in a long sleeved shirt.

               The shirt he is wearing now is a chalky white, and clings to him perfectly. I feel myself lost in a trance, and the waitress dismisses his relation to me and asks what we’d like to order. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “He’s a—a—business associate.” I say awkwardly, furrowing my eyebrows.

          “Oh, well, what would you like for drinks?” she continues with her job, placing down our menus and breadsticks.

               “Vanilla milkshake,” I shrug.

               “You got any hard-lemonade?” Alistair puts his elbows on the table, and puts his chin in his palms. He throws her a charming smile, and I watch her face flush—how unbelievable! “You got an I.D?”

               “Now where would be the fun in that?” he laughs, taking out his wallet, and passing her the I.D. “Hmm,” she looks over it, and hands it back.

          “Even if I was a minor, underage drinking is always fun, is it not?” he lets out a lighthearted laugh, and she smiles slightly. “Well, that I.D does seem legit, but we don’t have any…so what about a regular ol’ glass of lemonade?”

               “Sounds good,” he shrugs.

               “So what kind of business are we in partner?” he chuckles, folding his arms behind his head.

               “How old are you?” I mumble, ignoring his question. I didn’t want to be hanging out with not only someone who is overage and goes to high school, but a delinquent?