Eternal Paradox - WhoaaNicole (best ebook reader under 100 TXT) 📗

of our conversation.

“I got it,” I said, eager to do something in the kitchen; Connor had prepared the entire dish.

“Aah, my masterpiece,” Stella said as I set the tart on the counter. She kissed the tips of her fingers.

“Sure, Stella,” I said, stepping away. Connor was the true prodigy in the kitchen; Stella and I could barely scramble eggs.

“Watch out everybody, super chef approaches!” Stella said as Connor came to admire his work.
“Not bad, ladies.” He said. His deep hazel eyes settled on me. “My compliments to the chef.”

My heart fluttered, then I caught myself. Connor was my friend. My best friend. Aside from Stella, no one else on earth was closer to me. And he didn’t feel that way about me, did he? I pushed the thought out of my mind.

I had a date with the most striking guy on campus. Tonight. Sure, he was an overconfident flirtatious bastard, but I wanted to find out why I couldn’t sense any of his emotions. That was the only reason I’d agreed to the outing. Right?

Of course it was. But then I turned to Connor again. He was across the room now, serving his tart. I sensed his smugness; every girl in the room was in line to get a piece of his dish. I felt his fatigue, and remembered his complaints about football practice today.

Then Connor glanced at me, and gave me that smile I’d become so accustomed to. But today, there was something different about it. Something more. Underneath Connor’s normal emotions, I noticed a faint lavender air about him that only presented itself when he smiled at me.
Desire.

3

“So, we‘ll be leaving Friday morning, and we‘ll be back home Sunday night, you got that?” my mother asked me as I rummaged through my closet. It was already four ‘o’ clock, and the drive to the Gold Rush was thirty minutes by itself.

“Uh huh, I got it,” I replied, but my mother’s chocolate eyes narrowed.

“Then tell me what I just said, Adele.”

“You said, ‘your father and I are going out to Los Angeles to visit grandma Ann for the weekend, do you want to come?’ And I said ‘No,’ and you said-”

“That if you have any problems, call us,” my mother finished.

“Yep.”

“Okay then, I have to get back to grading these papers,” she said. She took one last glance at the black-and-white photographs that covered my lilac walls, and walked out of my room. I smiled. My mother, a first grade teacher, had the tendency to mistake me for one of her six-year-old students every once in a while.

I turned back to my closet. I felt a little like Stella; there wasn’t anything I wanted to wear tonight. I was starting to get frustrated.

“Why am I so nervous?” I asked myself. Nolan was only a person; granted, a really hot person, but still he wasn’t worth getting all worked up.

It took me another forty minutes to shower and get dressed. I settled on a casual off-the-shoulder dress and three-inch heels. The silver dress fell to just above my knees, and it looked good against my olive skin. I decided not to wear any makeup; I didn’t have time for it anyway.

My wavy jet black hair fell to the small of my back. There wasn’t anything I could think of to make it look elegant in a short amount of time, so I tousled my locks and called it a day.

“Bye, Mom,” I called on my way to the front door. “Give dad a hug for me.”

“Will do,” I heard from inside the kitchen.

My father, a prominent defense attorney, often worked late nights; thankfully, his addiction to working wasn’t something I’d inherited.

The drive to the jazz club took longer than expected. I hadn’t expected to get caught in traffic, so I reached the Gold Rush at about ten minutes past six. When I saw the rest of the clientele, my choice in attire reassured me. Most of the teenage girls wore outfits similar to mine, while the guys wore slacks and dress shoes.

As I walked toward the front entrance, I felt a pair of firm hands caress my own from behind. I twisted, startled.

“Calm down, Adele!” Nolan said, a wide grin on his lips. “You act as if you‘ve never been touched.”

I laughed. Another innuendo I chose to ignore.

He looked good. I’d never describe Nolan as a formal dresser, but his pressed dress shirt and maroon tie made me think otherwise. The only article of clothing that seemed familiar were his dark-washed jeans.

“Well? Shall we?” he asked, one hand indicating the door. His other hand stayed in mine. “And may I add, you look especially stunning tonight. ”

“Thanks, you too,” I responded warmly.

We were seated to a booth in the corner of the club and ordered our drinks before we spoke.

“So…” I started. I didn’t do the whole ‘dating’ thing very often.

“I want to know more about you Adele,” Nolan said, his palms down on top of the table. “You really… interest me.”

“How so?”

“I couldn‘t quite put my finger on it if I tried,” my date answered. “There’s just always been something different about you,” he flashed that smile again, obviously hoping for an answer. He wasn’t getting one.

“You know, I thought the same thing about you, Nolan. You asked me if I‘d love to find out, and I think I do.”

I saw him stiffen, but there wasn’t a change in his facial expression. I took a sip of my strawberry lemonade, keeping my eyes on him the entire time.

“Well, I guess this is a soft spot for the both of us,” I finished. “Why don‘t you tell me your favorite color instead?”


By seven thirty, I’d learned all I could about Nolan, and he’d done a good job of weeding information out of me, too. I’d gathered that he didn’t have a middle name or a favorite color, but when I’d pressed him on the color issue, he’d blurted out “chocolate!” in honor of my eyes.

Nolan had a roommate, too; someone who’d known him his entire life, and stuck with him through thick and thin. He drove a mustang convertible that he called Red, even though it was black. I also learned that Nolan was a semi-dedicated vegan; he had an infatuation with frozen yogurt.

“Italian tart, it‘s my favorite,” he’d told me when I’d inquired about his favorite flavor. “And yours?”

“Well, I‘d have to say… strawberry.”

“Seriously?” Nolan asked me playfully. “Out of an entire world of flavors, you pick strawberry? Adele, you really need to widen your horizons.” He grinned at me, and I giggled like a schoolgirl.

Okay, so I hadn’t planned on being so comfortable around him.

Nolan was just so charismatic, you’d have to be crazy to not take a liking to him. I found myself so deep in the conversation, I didn’t even notice when the waiter (who was very handsome, by the way) came to our table to refill our drinks. The waiter, who’s nametag read Orlando, winked at me. I smiled back, out of courtesy. This silent exchange earned Orlando a look that could kill, courtesy of my date. He scurried away, giving off a tangerine-colored air of frustration. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Jealous?” I asked, a smile forming.

“Yes,” Nolan answered bluntly. “Who wouldn‘t be?”

Of course, he continued to flatter me.
We stayed at our booth for another half-hour, enjoying the live jazz band, and each other’s company. Then Nolan stood, holding his hand out to me. I stared up at him, puzzled.

“C‘mon, Adele,” he urged. “Let‘s dance.”

I stood, but didn’t take Nolan’s hand. “Um…”

“Just one dance.” He reached out, taking my hand in his. He traced a circle in my palm with his thumb, smiling mischievously.
I gave up. “Okay,” I agreed, allowing Nolan to guide
me to the dance floor. “But you owe me one.”

“I‘d be happy to oblige you with whatever

you want from me.” he said seductively.

Oh god.

Nolan licked his lips, and I thought my knees would buckle. But I stood my ground, and didn’t address his friskiness. I didn’t have to be an empath to guess at his mood.

I sighed. “Let‘s get this over with.” Despite the irritation in my voice, I was a little eager to be this close to Nolan.

I’d stalled as much as I could to avoid dancing, and I paid for it dearly. As Nolan wrapped his arm around my waist, the band began to play the slowest song I’d heard all night.

The lights turned down, and many more couples made their way to the dance floor. The mood it set bewildered me. So did the feeling I got when I gazed into those violet eyes.
The ambiance was established, I was as close to Nolan as I’d ever been, and the yearning to be even closer wasn’t going anywhere. There was only one thing left to do: give in to it.

I wrapped my arms around Nolan’s neck, thankful for the boost the heels gave me.

“Do you regret coming tonight?” my date asked me, both of his arms now encircling my abdomen.

I paused for a moment, already knowing my response. When Nolan’s expression became uneasy, I answered.

“I don‘t think so.”

“You don‘t think so?” We stared at each other a moment longer, the saxophone playing a sultry solo. When Nolan leaned in to kiss me, I met him halfway.

As soon as his lips met mine, I knew I’d never let go first. One of my hands tightened in his pitch black hair, while the other stayed on the nape of his neck. I felt a thin, raised scar on it. I promised myself to ask him about it later.

Meanwhile, Nolan’s hands explored my back with enthusiasm I hadn‘t expected. He was everywhere at once, without being rough or impolite. I loved it, and I realized I could never get enough.

When he pulled away, I pouted without meaning to. “We are in a public place, Adele,” my date teased, grinning. “But rest assured, there‘s more where that came from.”

I’ve created a monster,

I thought to myself.

We danced for another few songs, and needless to say, I was on cloud nine.

“You know you have school tomorrow,” Nolan murmured in my ear. I shivered.

“And you do too,” I said innocently. My head rested against his shoulder.

“Actually, doll, I thought I‘d take a sick day tomorrow.”

“So you‘re ditching? On a Thursday?” I tried to suppress my pleasure at being called ‘doll’.

“Yes. And you‘re not. So you have to get home. If you leave now, you‘d be back in Chatham before nine ‘o’ clock.”

He had a point, but I really wanted to argue with it. I never wanted this night to end.

“Okay, let‘s go,” I agreed.

Nolan and I walked out to the well-illuminated parking lot. As we reached my car, he extended his hand. I took it without a word, and intertwined my fingers with his.

“Until Friday, Adele,” were his parting words. He kissed my knuckles and waited for me to pull out onto the street before walking away.