Come Fly With Me (71 page)

"Kenyon?
How
do
you
know
about
that?"
she
frowned.

"He
texted
me
a
minute
ago
to
tell
me
to
enjoy
you
and
all
your
beauty."

"Since
when
have
you
two
become
friends?"

"Since
we
made
keeping
you
safe
our
number
one
priority,"
he
nodded
at
the
hostess
as
she
led
them
to
their
table
in
the
back.

Allison
slipped
into
the
banquette.
There
was
a
row
of
votive
candles
down
the
center
of
the
table.

"You
don't
really
think
I'm
in
any
danger—do
you?"
She
broke
her
gaze
from
the
candles
and
looked
at
his
frown.

"I'm
afraid
I
do,"
he
said
grimly.
"My
instincts
are
screaming
that
we're
missing
something
obvious.
The
police
should've
turned
something
up
by
now."

She
shuddered,
"This
isn't
exactly
first-date
conversation."

"Well,
this
isn't
technically
our
first
date."

"It
isn't?
Did
I
miss
something?"

"Well,
I
would
say
if
you've
already
slept
with
a
woman,
that
would've
qualified
as
a
first
date."

"That
was
an
extreme
circumstance,
it's
not
like
we
willingly
slept
together."

"That's
not
how
I
remembered
it,"
he
reached
for
his
glass
of
water
and
signaled
the
server.

"Oh,"
she
said.
"I
barely
remember
it
at
all."

"Is
that
so?"
he
asked
softly,
"Well,
then
I'll
just
have
to
refresh
your
memory."
He
ordered
a
bottle
of
wine
and
leaned
back
in
his
chair
to
observe
her
nervous
fiddling.

Allison
took
a
calming
breath
and
smiled.
She
was
determined
to
be
a
good
date
despite
his
goading.
After
all,
she
was
the
one
who
had
asked
him
out,
and
it
would
be
impolite
to
act
otherwise.
When
he
reached
his
hand
around
the
edge
of
the
table
and
put
it
over
hers,
she
felt
froze.
She
took
a
couple
of
deep
breaths,
but
they
did
nothing
to
dispel
the
rising
panic
she
felt,
as
her
heart
hammered
against
her
chest.
She
reached
up
to
smooth
her
throat
with
her
free
hand,
hyper-aware
that
her
every
movement
was
being
watched.
After
what
seemed
like
an
eternity,
her
heartbeat
returned
to
normal,
and
she
was
able
to
look
Alex
in
the
eye,
but
not
before
she
looked
meaningfully
at
his
hand—
still
covering
hers.

"I
believe
I
might
have
just
had
my
first
panic
attack,
"she
said.

He
nodded
easily,
"I
believe
that's
a
good
thing."

"Not
from
where
I'm
sitting,"
she
shook
her
head.

"It
means
you're
starting
to
feel,
Allison.
You're
allowing
your
emotions
into
your
life."

He
slowly
took
his
hand
off
hers,
and
she
felt
a
profound
sense
of
relief.

She
turned
her
attention
to
the
server
who
was
putting
their
salads
in
front
of
them.
He
offered
her
a
pinch
of
freshly
ground
black
pepper,
and
after
accepting,
dug
into
her
greens
with
a
gusto
never
before
shown.

"You
know
I
would
never
dominate
or
suffocate
you,"
Alex
said
gently.

She
paused
with
a
grape
tomato
mid-way
towards
her
mouth.
"I
know
you're
not
the
smothering
type."

"Yet,
you
still
felt
trapped
when
I
put
my
hand
on
yours.
Like
I
would
lay
claim
to
your
life.
That's
not
me."

"I
know,"
Allison
whispered.

"This
past
summer,"
he
continued,
"I
spent
a
week
down
in
Buckhead.
I
took
some
of
my
nephews
and
nieces
to
the
beach
one
day.
It
was
fascinating
as
I
watched
their
varying
reactions
to
the
water.
One
of
my
two-year
old
nephews
was
fearless.
He
kept
running
across
the
sand
and
had
to
be
pulled
away
from
the
ocean.
It
appeared
as
if
he
was
making
every
attempt
to
drown
himself."
He
shook
his
head
as
he
laughed.
"I
swear,
I
thought
the
kid
was
going
to
end
up
in
Florida.
My
sister
kept
screeching
at
him
like
a
nut.
Anyway,
while
all
of
that
was
going
on,
I
saw
his
older
brother,
six
years
old
put
his
toes
at
the
water's
edge,
as
if
daring
the
water
to
rush
up
to
him.
But
the
minute
it
did,
he
went
running
back
to
his
mother
on
the
blanket.
I
don't
know
if
that
was
a
result
of
naturally-learned
caution,
or
the
fear
my
sister's
yelling
might
have
instilled
in
him
over
the
years.
I've
thought
about
it
a
lot,
for
some
reason
the
whole
thing
struck
a
nerve
with
me."