Robyn
We never went to dinner or anything like that, but Christian and I got coffee tons of times in between, and each time, he'd get the iced chai like me even though it was always too sugary for him. But today, he asked me to lunch. Well, more like abducted me to lunch.
Christian: I'm outside.
Robyn: What?
Christian: I'm outside your studio. We're having lunch.
Robyn: We are?
Christian: I'm taking you to lunch. Come down.
Christian: Please.
Robyn: Please? My my. That is new.
Christian: I'll do a lot more than say please for you, Robyn.
Robyn: Like what?
Christian: Come here and you'll find out.
And how could a girl deny an invitation like that? With a blush on my cheeks, I adjusted my simple yellow floral dress and white cardigan—internally groaning at not wearing something nicer—and ran out the door like there was a fire on my heels.
Christian was double parked on the street outside, creating an unforgivable traffic jam behind him. People honked and flipped him off, but he didn't seem to care, staring down at the phone in his hand through tinted shades.
I groaned in frustration and hid my face as I flung the door open and threw myself in the passenger seat.
"Are you the sole cause of New York traffic?" I asked as I pulled my seatbelt on.
"Probably," he shrugged, unbothered, pulling out of the street. "Hello to you, too."
Twisting in my seat, I took in today's charcoal gray suit that somehow made him look even bigger.
"Ciao," I smiled. "Don't you have work?"
"Even CEOs need lunch breaks, Robyn. Don't you?"
"Flexible hours. Perks of not being a CEO, I guess."
"Among others," he said, pulling his shades off and giving me a real, genuine, smile from the heart. I wanted to melt into the leather of his seats.
"What if I had a meeting or something?" I asked.
"Did you?"
"No. But what if I had?"
He shrugged. "I'd wait for you. I'll always wait for you."
I blinked. Something about that made my heart flutter and I quelled the feeling as quickly as I could.
"You need to give a girl some warning, you know?" I mumbled, blowing some hair out of my face, crossing my arms on my chest, and diverting my attention from his ridiculous perfectness.
"You're here, aren't you?"
"Yeah, but I look like a kid, and you look like sex on legs."
"Oh?" He trained his amused gaze on me, smirking and looking sinfully sexy while doing so.
"Don't be coy, you know it's true."
"No, you should definitely tell me more about it," he said with complete sincerity.
"So arrogant, Christian." I swatted his arm lightly. "I see that part hasn't changed."
"How do you mean?"
"You were always hot shit. My god, you really need me to spell everything out for you, don't you?" I turned my legs away from the center console, staring out the window.
He laughed, loud and clear, making my heart squeeze. Then, he clasped his hand over both my thighs and pulled me back to face him. The warmth of his hand seeped through my skin.
"There has never been a single day that you do not look breathtakingly beautiful, Robyn," he said sincerely. "Will you relax? It's our first lunch date, after all. Gotta make it count."
"First?"
"First of many, Ms. Hale."
"Is that a promise?"
His gaze burned through me. "It is."
His hand didn't leave my thighs the entire way there.
I made no effort to move it.
Christian's idea of a casual lunch was one of the top three most expensive restaurants in New York. In his defense, he did pick the second one.
I calculated the chances of a massive sinkhole swallowing us whole as I watched women in designer dresses and men in tailored suits breeze out of their cars in front of us. I wasn't dressed like that. I wasn't built like that. I wasn't the kind of girl who was supposed to be in a place like this with a guy like Christian Ryder.
"Christian, dio mio, I am not leaving this car," I told him, horrified.
"Well, you should have told me that before we got in line for the valet. I would have just left you in here to watch my car," Christian drawled, unbothered at my mini-meltdown.
"I am not kidding. I am not dressed for this," I said nervously, looking at my reflection in the mirror of his car.
His hand moved from my thighs to my cheek and brushed across the freckles there. "You have no idea how much I've missed these," he murmured.
"You're just trying to distract me," I whispered, my skin buzzing.
In a low, husky voice, he said, "Now you know how I feel. You distract me all the time."
Christian stepped out, tossed the keys to a valet, and rounded the car to open the door for me. He extended his arm out for me, the perfect gentleman.
Pressing a possessive palm on my lower back, he guided me through the blue-gray marble decorated revolving door. Christian ignored the group of people who were waiting in the lobby–and were now all staring at him–and walked right up to the hostess.
Still not removing his hand from my back, he leaned on the podium, clearing his throat.
"Um, hi," she greeted and flushed bright red.
Christian wasn't even really looking at her, just scanning the restaurant behind. She hadn't even had a chance to see his stunning smile, his dazzling eyes, and yet she was weak at the knees. I understood the feeling.
"Do you have a reservation?"
"Christian Ryder," he said simply. I crossed my legs. I was used to my dad and brother dropping our name all around town. But seeing Christian do it... that was a weird turn-on.
Then, dread filled me momentarily. Did he have a standing reservation here? Is this where he took the Lydia Aldine's of the world?
"Oh, of course," she blinked rapidly between us, trying to piece together our relationship. If Christian Ryder was dating someone, it would be all over the newspapers already.
Christian guided me to my seat with a hand firmly on my waist and didn't let go until he'd pulled my chair out and let me sit down.
"If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know," the hostess all but got on her knees and begged Christian, ignoring me completely.
He didn't even respond, opening up the menu and not sparing her a second glance. It made me strangely giddy, but I quickly remembered my manners.
"Thank you," I said for him.
She sized me up and walked away with a look of disappointment and maybe even disgust across her face.
"You have no idea how women act around you, do you?" I sighed.
"What women?"
"All women," I rolled my eyes.
"I really don't care," he murmured, checking his phone.
I leaned back and took in the room some more. It was a truly colossal establishment. Tall white walls that surrounded us, an enormous blue and white painting that hung in the middle with accented furniture to match. Even the air in the room felt rich and expensive.
"Così bello," I whispered, in awe of the elegant decorations and open floor plan. So beautiful.
He looked up at me through unnecessarily long lashes. "You like?"
I nodded. "Thank you for bringing me."
Chuckling, he shook his head. "Enough with the formalities, kiddo."
"Kiddo?" I scoffed.
"You're five years younger than me."
"I'm not a kid. I'm 29."
"Still in your 20s," he tsked. "Oh, to be so young again. I wish I were you."
"And I wish I were the youngest CEO in North America, New York's most eligible bachelor, with degrees from Stanford and Columbia, and a name that could get me immediate seating in any restaurant of my choice."
He shot me a dry look. "All that has gotten me jack shit in life, Robyn."
"Why?"
"Because I still don't have everything I want," he answered honestly.
"Despite how hard you work?"
His gaze was so hard on mine I thought I would incinerate. "Yes."
I didn't know what to make of the intensity in his body at that moment. It seemed like there was something deeper lacing his words, something I couldn't identify.
"It used to make me sad sometimes, you know," I continued. "Seeing you always on your phone working or taking calls when we were on vacation—it was like you never got a break."
He shrugged, taking a sip of his water and sitting back in his chair. "It's the life."
"It's not a life, Christian. Your family and the people who love you deserve more of your undivided attention."
He tilted his head to the side, as if examining if I were telling the truth. "Everyone in my family is happily married. They have their own lives now."
I stared at him with my mouth open. "Is that really what you think?"
He arched an eyebrow.
"Ariadne spends every day time worrying that you are way too much of a workaholic and you are going to resent every day of your life. Bella vets every single woman she invites to her events because she wants you to find someone good and genuine and charitable. The fact that you don't eat properly stresses Damon out so much sometimes he'll cook for a small army and drop it at your door. And Francis has looked for safe sleeping remedies for years because you don't sleep more than three hours a night. You work insane hours and never take a break. They all worry about you all the time." So do I.
Christian leaned his elbows on the table, moving in closer. He looked away but for a moment, something tortured flashed through his eyes. "There's a lot of fucked up expectations that come with being me. And that means sacrifices."
"Not your happiness, Christian. Nothing is worth sacrificing that."
His gaze moved back to me when he said, "My happiness is too far from me, Robyn. I'm not sure I'll ever get it back."
The depth in his voice made me stutter, but I pushed to say, "All I have ever wanted is for you to be happy. You know how much it kills me to know you're not?"
He rubbed a hand over his jaw. "How was I supposed to be happy when you weren't around?"
My heart beat so violently I thought I was going to die. "I'm here now."
"And you'll stay?"
My throat worked as I looked into my favorite pair of brown eyes in the world. "Is that what you want?"
"Yes," he answered quickly. "I want you. In my life."
Dio mio. "Then I'll stay, Christian. Anything for you."
"Forever?"
"Forever."
God, this man. He was killing me. Utterly killing me.
We spent over two hours lost in conversation while sampling an inordinately large number of courses that sported tiny food on enormous plates. He pushed all of his olives on my plate. I took them gratefully.
When the time finally came, I didn't want lunch to end. But alas. CEOs had important things to do after all. Clasping the four figure check in my hand, I dug around my purse for my wallet when Christian snatched it from me.
I frowned. "You got coffee, let me get this one."
"First lunch date, Robyn. Not a chance in hell." Christian didn't even look at the bill before slipping a black credit card into it, handing it back to the waiter.
"I'm fully capable of paying for a meal," I huffed.
"Still, I was always told that when a guy asks a girl out, he should pay for it."
My eyes rolled. "That's when the guy likes the girl."
His head tipped to the side in an oddly adorable way. "Isn't that what's happening here?"
I leaned forward with my elbows on the table, emulating a calm I certainly didn't feel. "You tell me."
He mirrored my position. "Maybe I'm rectifying things I should have done years ago."
"What's that?"
"Never letting you go."
"I told you I'll stay," I whispered. "I promised."
A flash of pain crossed his face. "I know. I trust you."
"Then what are you worried about?"
Silence hung in the air before he shook his head. "Nothing. I'm fine."
"You don't have to be fine all the time, Christian. You can rely on other people."
"I can't—"
I covered his hand with mine. "Yes. You can. You are always taking care of us. Doing everything for other people. Let us take care of you too."
Slowly, he flipped his palm so he was holding my hand. "It's hard for me to let go of control. To let other people take care of me. I don't know how to do that."
"You used to let me."
His smile was sad. "You were the only one."
"Christian—"
"I'm taking care of myself. Don't worry about me. All I want is for you not to ever leave me again."
I squeezed his hand in mine, even though all I wanted to do was brush my hand through his hair because I knew it would calm him down. Make all his worries cease to exist for even just a moment.
"I can do that, but know this. If I'm back in your life, I will take care of you. And I will be there for you. All the time. You can rely on me."
His eyes closed for a brief moment before they opened back up again to stare at me. He was so handsome, but so broken. I could see it in his eyes. I knew them entirely too well.
"Alright."
A small smile graced my face. "Alright."
"But I'm paying. Lunch was my idea. When you ask me to hang out, which you are yet to do, friend, you can pay. Sound good?"
Hmm...
"Sounds good."