Don't Touch Her Act 2: Finding Peace

Chapter Fifty-One

𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓪

He pulled the chair out for me. I cautiously sat down, aware of his hands, aware of his eyes, aware of him.

He sat down, a smile on his face. He wore a dark navy plaid and jeans with square toed boots.

His hair was a perfect disarray, dimples in the corner of his mouth when he smiled, his eyes warm and inviting underneath the dim lighting.

Music played overheard, a country song I had never heard before. I stared into his chest, looking at the small buttons, nervous to meet his eyes.

He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table and resting his knuckles on his jaw. I watched, remembering the rules of etiquette the orphanage taught us.

Keep your elbows off the table.

"You look amazing," he said, finally bringing my eyes to his.

"Thank you," I replied slowly, looking back to his buttons. The corners of his mouth tipped into a smile, briefly glancing down to his shirt.

Our waitor arrived and we ordered our drinks.

"So," he started once our server had left. "Tell me something about yourself."

I looked at him. His warm eyes and mouth that were always smiling, his low set brows, and defined jawline.

I thought. What did I like?

"... I like to clean."

"Really? I don't know very many who like to clean," he smiled, "so, if given the chance, would you be a house maid?"

I shook my head. "I like cleaning, but I wouldn't do it for a full-time job. I have other... plans, I guess." I furrowed my brows, confused as to what I really wanted.

"What are those?"

I hesitated, trying to quickly produce an answer.

"It's okay if you don't have anything planned. Sometimes it takes longer for others," he said, clearly noticing my lack of an answer.

I nodded and looked around the room, other people, other men, making myself aware of their position.

I felt him staring at me and was afraid to meet his eyes, so I looked around once more and then down to my hands, noticing the slight shiver in them. I tightly gripped my dress.

"Have-" my voice shook, and I started over. "Have you always wanted to be a cop?" I looked up at him, noticing the curious look in his eyes.

"Well, I work as a detective, but no. When I was younger, I actually thought about construction. I like building things," he added with a smile.

I nodded, offering the smallest of smiles before I looked down.

"You're really quiet." I looked at him, meeting his curious gaze, as if he was trying to silently tear me open and understand me.

I let out a slow, shaky breath, feeling the nerves rising, and nodded.

"We can leave? You don't look very comfortable being here, or maybe it's just me."

I thought about his offer, wanting to leave, but the thought of being alone with him scared me even more.

"No... No, I'm okay. I'll stay."

"You can tell me whenever and we'll go, okay?"

My eyes met his, and I nodded.