After their mothers strolled away, Big folded his arms over his chest and smirked at Alisha. "Well played."
Alisha arched a brow and smirked back. "Thank you."
"So, in addition to rushing into burning buildings and having a killer set of pipes, it turns out you're kind of evil."
She smiled wickedly. "I think your mother is already planning our wedding."
Big laughed in spite of himself, because he knew that is exactly what his mother was doing. "Already engaged and I haven't even seen you naked. What a shame," he said, leering down at her.
Alisha rolled her eyes and turned to Maggie and Russell. "I'm leaving. Thanks for coming to the show," she said to her friends and James and waved. Big grabbed her arm and stopped her. "What?" she asked with disinterested sigh, even though her arm was now electrically charged.
"Thanks for the tickets," he told her.
"Don't mention it." She tugged her arm free and looked over at Maggie. "See you at home," she called, and turned and walked briskly for the exit.
What the fuck just happened?
Chapter 4
Alisha was tucked into a crowded corner of her favorite deli Wednesday afternoon enjoying her free day and looking forward to devouring the enormous pastrami sandwich as soon as her number was called. She'd had a productive morning so far—her laundry as well as Maggie's (despite her friend's protests that it wasn't necessary) was washed, folded and put away, the apartment shone like a new penny, and she'd had her ass kicked up and down Crunch Gym by her sadistic trainer. Hilda would absolutely not approve of the calories she was about to consume, but that's why she worked out (and why she lied her face off about her diet). If she had to live off of nothing but tree bark and berries, she'd be murderous inside of a week. She flipped open her battered copy of Pride and Prejudice and read while she waited.
Big spotted her while he was in line waiting to order and shook his head at his luck. He'd been bombarded by her in some form for the better part of a week, although this was the first time he'd seen her in person since the night he'd gone to see her show. It seemed as though everywhere he went nowadays he saw her plastered on a poster or a billboard for Chicago, her dark eyes staring back at him. Hell, she even tortured him as the bus went past, laid out in all her black satin and fishnet glory. He supposed that those images had always been around, only now he was aware and shit and that really stuck in his craw—mostly because she'd one-upped him in front of his mother and said mother hadn't stopped nagging him about the lovely and talented Jewish girl ever since. So of course she'd show up in his favorite deli, with her nose buried in a book and her dark hair waving invitingly around her gorgeous face on the only day he'd yet to see an image of her. He placed his order and grabbed a cup for his soda, heading over to the machine to fill it up.
"Order up for Alisha," a man behind the counter boomed.
She dog-eared her place in the book and set it on the table. "Pastrami on rye—good choice," a voice said lazily. Alisha looked up and found Big smirking (honestly, did the man have another expression?) at her, her bag of food in his hand. "Why does New York feel like it's getting smaller every day?" she clipped.
"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing," he said gruffly. The vacant chair at her table scraped across the floor as he pulled it out and plopped down carelessly into it. He handed her the bag and leaned back against the seat.
"What are you doing?" she asked, eyeing him warily.
"Sitting at the only available seat in the joint." He lifted the cup to his mouth and took a big gulp of his Coke.
"I don't recall asking you to join me," she informed him, casting a furtive glance around the deli to see if he was telling the truth. He was.
He cocked his head to the side and looked at her, his eye dancing amusedly. "Would you really make me eat standing up?" The corners of his lips turned up slightly.
Alisha could tell that he was the kind of guy who was used to getting everything he wanted from a woman with just a look or a smile. And while she couldn't deny he was ridiculously attractive (sexy), she wasn't about to fall prey to his charms. "No, I wouldn't." He grinned. "There's an open seat right there," she pointed to a newly vacated table a few feet away. She smiled wryly and reached into the paper sack for her sandwich.
Big chuckled, rising to his feet when he heard his order being called. She was prickly and for some reason he liked that. He got his sandwich, thought briefly about sitting at the other table, then sat back down at Alisha's instead.
The little slice of heaven was halfway to her mouth when he sat back down. She frowned. "What are you doing?" she asked again.
"I don't want you to eat alone," he replied, a wily smile on his lips.
"How noble," she said dryly.
"Isn't that what all women want?" he asked, reaching between them for the book on the table. He picked it up, glanced at the cover and pointed to it.
Alisha sighed, set her sandwich down and fixed him with a bored look. "What are you talking about?"
He lifted the cup to his mouth, grinned over the top of it. "A knight in shining armor."
She laughed darkly. "There's no such thing as knights in shining armor. Only retards wrapped in aluminum foil." Oh, Alisha, that was so not
