STEPHEN

STEPHEN | 9

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9

I wiped my palms against my dress, my eyes catching a hold onto Stephen's. He kept my gaze there as if there was no other way for me to escape them. He held me trapped like I was in a cage. Even when he moved his vision away from me, my own eyes stuck to his face, completely smitten by him.

I wasn't the only one who noticed as well.

There was a group of women not far from our table, eye fucking him openly. I knew he could tell that they were looking at him but I don't think he cared.  After all, he had come here for one reason. He had claimed that because I asked many questions that this could be a night where we could get to know one another. Better. Where I could openly ask him questions.

And for the first time he was happy to oblige to. "Next."

"Favorite color?"

Stephen chuckled, pushing his plate to the side. "For the first time since we have met, your questions are very basic. I'm surprised."

"I'm trying to go easy on you."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows, locking his fingers. "I wouldn't pick a color. I'd pick a shade. Grey. You?"

"Purple."

"You seem like the type to like purple."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Stephen simply laughed as a reply, his grin wide. He'd been like this all night. Easy going. Letting go of that introvert nature he usually shows in public. I didn't miss the way his hand made it's way to my knee while that grin stuck on his face. 

"It means what I said. Okay, anymore questions? Last chance before we order dessert."

"Are you going to speak to your brother ever again?"

Stephen leaned back. He removed his hand from my knee and his eyes danced around the lights of the restaurant. He let out a deep sigh before answering, "No."

"Stephen-"

"No," He started and his tone indicated that this topic was over faster than it had been brought up. "I am not going to speak to him again. I don't wish to. I don't want to. I don't speak to my family or anyone associated with it. I know you wish to know more but that is it. Do you understand?"

I nodded tentatively, my eyes tearing themselves off his own to glance at the white tablecloth that suddenly became very interesting. I wasn't sure what to feel at the way he said his words. I bit my lip at the dominant way he sounded and didn't bother speaking.

"I'm not sure you do, Juliana," He said slowly. His hand on the table was tracing a pattern upon the cloth. "You have that look in your eyes. You always want to know more. In fact, I think you would want to meet them, don't you?"

"No." I lied, my voice quiet. Fuck, he knew I lied too.

He got leaned forward. He moved close enough for me to still at the proximity. "Don't lie to me."