Dedicate me songs

Chapter 9: Ada

He came closely to our table and his brother followed him behind. I stood up by inertia when he reached out his hand and lifted me out of my chair, then brought his lips to my cheek and kissed me twice.

—Good night Ada, nice to see you again—he said, looking into my eyes. I couldn't take my eyes off his lips, that by touching of my face, made my blood pump so hard that I felt like I was going to faint at any moment.

—He...He...Hello Michael— I hesitated as best I could and sat down in the chair quickly so that I could stop shaking. He followed my steps closely with his eyes. What a sight! The two times I saw him, I didn't have the chance to see his face, but now, inches away from me, I could contemplate those blue eyes; but not just any blue, no, the turquoise blue that bathes the coasts of the Caribbean added to a faint grey that surrounded his pupil. It was hard not to get lost in them.

— I'll have the baked sea bream with a tomato and lemon salad, oh, and a bottle of the best Rioja you have—said Michael closing the menu card with disinterest and then stared at me. Was this a challenge?

—I hope you like Spanish wine—he whispered in my ear. My skin crawled. 

Even though I was born in Spain, I never got to taste their wine; firstly, because I only lived there for two years and secondly because importing wine from Spain to the United States or Canada was worth $300 a bottle. I couldn't afford it.

—Yes, although for fish, I would recommend sticking with white wine as it pairs better— I said, looking up at him as a challenge, confident in the words I remembered from my father who once said to me: In Spain I learned that fish goes better with white wine and meat with red.

—Pardon...Charles— said Michael, reading the badge hanging from the waiter's jacket. —Bring us a bottle of Emilio Rojo's white wine—added, smiling and winking at me.

—Yes, Mr. Rider, as you please— said the waiter, and went away.

—So you know about wines, huh? — said Lucifer, not taking his blue eyes off me, while Emma and Will seemed too much occupied in giving each other's ears.

—No...but my father taught me to choose wisely— I blushed again as my eyes met his.

— What's the matter with you, Ada, since when do you know about wine? Behave yourself and stop looking like a child—said the cricket in my head.

Michael...Mike...the basketball player seemed to be a reserved man, he kept his gaze when he spoke and didn't laugh at anyone's jokes or banter, unlike his brother; a cheerful guy who always had a smile on his face.

When William or Emma asked him a question, I took advantage of his being distracted to look at him; he had a rather accentuated profile, his set jaw hardened the features of his face, and his nose was broad and large, but not excessively so. He wore a blue shirt that matched his eyes and, when he leaned forward on his elbows, his entire back was marked with perfectly sculpted muscles on it.

Our waiter had finished his shift, and a dark-haired girl came to replace him. She couldn't take her eyes off the basketball player, every time she came to pick up a plate, she brushed her hand against his. When picking up the last one, she dropped a napkin with something written on it next to his hand. Not thinking too much about it, I picked up my glass of wine and poured it over the paper, wiping away any traces of ink.

I don't know what made me do it, whether it was the four glasses of wine or the uncontrollable jealousy that flooded my mind when I saw her smiling at him. She was much prettier than me and for sure appeal hi.

—Ada baby, will you come with me to the bathroom please? — Emma said as the waitress picked up the mess I had made. I apologised for my clumsiness and followed my friend to the sink.