Page 18 of Tears of Ink

Like a scolded child, I want to take back every giggle I’ve bestowed on him.

C H A P T E R S I X

“Why London? You could have gone to so many other places to study Art? Couldn’t you have stayed in Brighton, even?”

“What have you been looking at on Facebook?”

He smiles over the rim of his coke. The barmaid had known him by name when we came in. I tried not to let the fact irk me as I’d stood and ordered my wine. It wasn’t any of my business anyway. “Nothing, really. It’s clear you only have contacts in Brighton, and a few from London. Gerard Steers being one of them.”

His gaze makes me squirm on the hard, wooden chair.

“You know, you could have friend requested me instead of just lurking and judging my friends and contacts.”

“We aren’t friends, though.”

I take a sip of wine. “No, we aren’t.”

“I could, though.”

I shrug. “You could.”

“Would you accept?” There’s teasing in his smile.

Another shrug. “Maybe. It depends how busy I am.”

“I looked through your portfolio.” His change in conversation blindsides me. “You are exceptionally talented.”

I flush, but my instant reaction to protect myself flares into action. “Thanks. Are you an expert?”

He shrugs and makes it look far cooler than I do. “So, what do you do with your time?”

“Stuff.”

“Stuff? That sounds vastly entertaining.”

“I manage to keep myself amused.”

Sure you do. God, this man is making me regress to teenagehood. Is there such a thing as teenagehood? If there is, I’m hurtling towards it at a great rate.

“So… you and Gerard. How long have you been friends?”

He shakes his head, cutting me off. “Peter is Gerard’s friend.”

The pointed way he says it makes me frown.

“Well, he’s been good to me. He’s made me stay the course when I could have left so many times.”

“Course he has.” Elijah’s face hardens.

“What does that mean?”

He spreads his hands and shrugs again. “Don’t mind me, it’s schoolboy history. Oh, and call me Eli, please.” He smiles broadly, and I stare, my eyes open wide. That smile… have I ever seen anything like it? “Elijah makes me feel like I’ve stepped right out of the bible.”

“Highly religious, are we?”

He gives a small shake of his head. “You’re like a razor.”

“Don’t get too close then,” I retort.