The Wanderers Beginning: The Wanderers, Reborn, & Unforgiven (21 page)

  
              “I don't understand why you're so upset. There's nothing wrong with admitting we're the same.”

  
              “Hardly,” I scoffed. My irritation, I understood, was something that brought joy to Tristan.

   
              “I'm not that bad. In fact, I know tons of people who would kill to be just like me.”

  
              “Yes, I can imagine, unfortunately.”

  
              “Have I struck a nerve?” He tormented. He wanted a reaction from me. I refused to give him one, forcing him to find another source of entertainment. “If I'm so horrible, then why did you agree to go on a date with me?”

  
              “It was kind of hard not to when I was being held hostage.”

  
              His eyes shimmered at the memory. “You say tomato, I say
tomato
.”

  
              “You are the most irrational person I've ever met.”

 
              “Yes, but at least I can say I enjoy my life.”

  
              “I never said I didn't like my life.”

  
              “Of course you wouldn't. How could you? You're too busy living someone else's to realize this so called life of yours isn't really your own.”

  
              “Where does this stuff even come from? Do you actually think things through before you speak or you randomly throw stuff together and hope it makes sense? Because the only life I'm living is my own,” I said.

  
              “Are you sure about that?” He cocked his head to the side checking me out. “Tell me this. Those business courses you're taking, whose decision was that? The car you're driving, who picked it out? Who picked out that dress?”

  
              I stared, not believing what I was hearing. No, it was not true. I made my own decisions. My life was my own. I crossed and uncrossed my legs, fidgeting in my chair. I was not comfortable with where this conversation was going. “I'm gonna take another stab here and say you were class president, or head of Student Counsel. Never stayed out past curfew and had a 4.0 grade average.”

  
              “There's nothing wrong with being smart,” I said, crossing my arms annoyed at how accurate he was. On paper I was the perfect student, but just like any other high schooler I had my fair share of fun.

  
              “You must be slipping. If you were really that smart you wouldn't have said yes to a date with me,” he said as he broke off a piece of bread and tossed it into his mouth, flashing me a grin. I had to give him that one.

  
              Thankfully the waiter soon showed up with our food. I no longer had the strength to argue with him. I knew I would need to fuel up in order to have the energy to keep up with his logic. I dug into my steak thankful for the hearty meal. I hadn't had the chance to eat much today and now I was starving, plus trying to keep up with Tristan works up an appetite.

  
              He didn't say much while we ate and for that I was thankful. I did find it a little disconcerting when he would watch me eat. I was half tempted to shove the whole steak in my mouth hoping he would be so repulsed he would turn away. But my luck, he would find something provocative about it. I had a feeling everything was intriguing to Tristan.

  
              When we were done, the waiter cleaned up and asked if we would like dessert. I declined, wanting to hurry the date along. Once the waiter was gone, Tristan stood and offered me his hand. I was puzzled as to what he was doing. “Dance with me,” he requested.

  
              “There's no music,” I declared.

  
              “Then we'll dance to the rhythm of our hearts.”

  
              I rolled my eyes and tried to keep down my steak. “There isn't a dance floor.” I mentioned, hoping to find a way out of it.

  
              “What's the matter? Scared someone might think you're crazy for dancing in the middle of the restaurant without music.”

  
              “I do not care what people think of me.” I sat up taller, lifting my chin higher.

  
              “Who's the snob now?” His smile grew and I knew he was tormenting me on purpose. Determined to prove him wrong, I stood up. He gave a slight bow and rolled his arm out to me. I took it reluctantly as he guided me a few feet away from our table. He pulled me close to him; one hand place strategically on my lower back while the other cupped my hand.

  
              I waited for him to take the first step. His eyes bore down on mine before he flashed me his cocky smile and took the lead. I followed in step trying to keep a safe distance between us. The further apart I moved, the closer he would inch his way back in. We waltzed in small circles trying to avoid a collision with the nearby tables. “Tell me something, Ella. Why'd you really agree to come on a date with me?”

  
              “Honestly? Curiosity, I guess.” This wasn’t far from the truth.

  
              “Didn't you ever hear the expression curiosity killed the cat?” He said with a slight edge to his voice.

  
              “Are you gonna tell me next that you're some double O agent and my life is in danger?”

     
              “The only thing you're in danger of is loving me.” His face softened. I felt something change in his mood when he said it. It was almost as if he truly believed what he just said.

  
              “No worries, that is one charity I don't plan on donating to,” I said, hoping to lighten his mood.

  
              He chuckled lightly before spinning me away from him. He pulled me back so fast I whipped around and slammed right up against him. I felt like the air was sucked right out of me. Tristan grazed the side of my cheek and stared deeply into my eyes. “Promise me one thing Ella,” he whispered. “Promise me you won't fall in love with me.”

  
              “I think that is one promise I can keep.”

  
              He smiled but his eyes said something completely different. The waiter cleared his throat indicating his presence. I pulled away abruptly and hurried back over to my seat. The air was so much clearer over there. I didn't want Tristan to know I lied to him. One of the things I picked up on was that he had a sixth sense about people's true feelings. I couldn't risk him discovering that I felt something when I wasn't even sure myself. 

  
              He paid the check and returned to the table. “Are you ready?” he asked. I nodded, suddenly not wanting the date to be over. “No worries. I'm not finished with you yet,” he smirked sensing my dissatisfaction. Perplexed at his once again accuracy of reading my feelings, I allowed him to pull me along to whatever destination he had in mind.

  
              We walked two blocks down to an ice cream shop. He held the door open for me as I sauntered through. “I thought you didn't want dessert?” I asked.

  
              “Not there. This place has the best cakes and ice cream and I didn't want you to miss out,” he smiled. He chose a small table in the center with heart shaped chairs. I sat down and trusted his judgment to pick something that I would like. But who were we kidding here. It's cake and ice cream. I have yet to find any flavor I did not like.

  
              He returned with one bowl and two spoons. “I thought we'd share,” he said, offering me a spoon. “It can be a little rich sometimes so it's hard to finish one on your own,” he explained. I dug in right away without a second thought. He smiled softly at my eagerness.

  
              “This is really good,” I said, wiping away the small bit that dribbled down my chin.

  
              “I love coming here and watching the scenery,” he said, never taking his eyes off of me.

  
              “That's kind of hard to do if you're not actually looking around,” I said, feeling a slight chill.

  
              He reached across the table grasping my hand in his. He brushed his thumb across the top in gentle circles. “I don't need to look when I have the best view right in front of me.”

  
              I stifled an eye roll. “Could you be any more pathetic?”

   
              “You really don't know how to take a compliment do you?” he sighed, pulling back leaving me with a slight emptiness where his hand had lingered.

   
              “Maybe it's because with your flattery comes ulterior motives.”

  
              I played with my spoon in the ice cream as he watched me, contemplating his next move. “It's no secret I've had my fair share of women, but that doesn't make me a bad person. I'm not going to pretend to be someone I'm not.”

  
              I paused at his sudden turnaround in the conversation. I collected my thoughts and answered as honestly as I could. “I would never ask you to be anyone other than who you are. But see that's the difference between you and me. We come from two different worlds.”

  
              “Don't you think it's time you ventured outside your bubble?” He challenged. I stared at him not sure where he was going. Tristan had so many random thoughts it was hard to process what he was talking about half the time. In retrospect, if you thought hard enough, you could find the underlining meaning. But sometimes it was better to not even bother with the headache.

  
              He stood up reaching for my hand. “We're not going to dance again are we?” I asked with reluctance.

  
              “No,” he laughed, “I have one more place I want to take you.” I turned back to the half melted ice cream and silently took his hand. Once we were outside, I got hit with a cold chill. I rubbed my hands vigorously up and down my arms trying to warm them.  “You cold?” he asked.

  
                            “Yes. All that ice cream probably didn't help,” I admitted.

  
              “Hold on a sec,” he gestured. He jogged down the two blocks to his truck and retrieved something from the backseat. He returned with a jacket that he placed over my shoulders like a gentleman. “Better?”

  
              “Yes, thank you.” He took my hand and led me to a back alley. I stopped, jerking his arm back. “Where are we going?” I asked suddenly not liking the situation.

  
              “Relax,” he said, pulling me along. “If I wanted to kill ya, I would have picked a less populated area,” he winked.

   
              I glared at him not amused. “That's comforting,” I said, sarcastically. 

  
              “C'mon,” he tugged. I reluctantly followed and he ventured down the alley until we fell upon a fire escape. Tristan jumped, more like floated, into the air to pull down the ladder. Once he felt it was secure he turned to me. “Ladies first.”

  
              “Uh-ah, I'm not going up there first so you can look up my dress,” I replied, giving him the evil eye.

  
              He rolled his eyes at me. “Fine,” he said, stepping onto the first rung. I followed him shortly after. Once he got to the top of the first landing, he turned around to offer me a hand.

  
              We climbed all the way to the top of the building. “Now what?” I asked, trying not to look down. I was hoping I didn't suddenly develop a fear of heights. I never had a problem before, but I'd also never been that high off the ground either. I set my fears aside and pressed my back tightly up against the wall to help myself feel more secure.

  
              Tristan smiled playfully at me then turned his attention to the window behind us. “Tristan, what are you doing?” I asked as he jimmied the window open. “Are you breaking in?” I looked around nervously.

  
              “Relax, it's abandoned.” He pushed the window aside with ease, and then lifted his one leg over the sill while holding onto the frame for leverage. Once he was safely inside, he waved for me to join him. I looked around once more to make sure no one was watching. I swung one leg through the open window then the other trying to make sure he couldn't see up my dress, which wasn't easy. Tristan helped me down from the edge and gently onto the floor.

  
              He took my hand and guided me through the pitch black room to a door that led to a hallway. I kept close not able to see no more than two feet in front of me. I was unaware if it was the cool chill in the air, the rush of doing something we're not supposed to, or his close proximity. Regardless of the cause, my body felt a rush unlike no other.

  
              We ended up at another door, with another pair of stairs. I somehow managed to make out the writing on the door from the dim light of the outside street lamps. “Roof access… we're going to the roof?”