"Actually," I said, "I didn't quite get that. Would you mind repeating it?"
So he did. Again and again.
What can I say? I'm a slow learner.
Chapter 45
Between long, lingering kisses and sips of champagne, I watched the landscape change around us from suburbia to highway and finally to an urban cityscape.
Soon, we were in the heart of downtown Detroit, passing ornate brick and stone architecture from the city's glory days. It was interspersed with signs of urban decay – a gas station with long-outdated prices, a boarded-up building that covered an entire city block, a burned-out car that hadn't been hauled away.
"It's not as bad as I expected," I said as we passed a bustling nightclub with a long line of stylishly dressed patrons waiting outside the main entrance.
"You don’t ever come down here?" he asked.
"Not usually," I said. "At least, not so much anymore." I grew up in Hamtramck, a city almost completely surrounded by Detroit. In high school, I'd gone downtown every once in a while to hit Greektown or a museum, but mostly I stuck to the suburbs.
"Well, it's like anyplace else," Lawton said. "You got your nice parts and your not-so-nice parts."
I gave him a sideways glance. "Which part are you from?"
He was quiet for a moment as his gaze drifted past the tinted window, where an empty lot was littered with broken beer bottles. It was sandwiched between two massive office buildings, unlit and apparently unoccupied. "It wasn't the nice part," he said.
From the tone of his voice, it was pretty obvious that particular topic was closed, at least for tonight. It was probably for the best. Half-drunk with champagne and kisses, I'd never do any serious conversation justice.
I snuggled up close to him, feeling the hard muscles of his body shift subtly with every moment he made, whether to refill my champagne glass or to turn and look out the window.
Together, we watched the cityscape slide past us until we stopped in front of a gleaming, circular tower bathed in the blue and orange glow of sleek accent lighting and rows of well-lit windows.
Surrounding the tower were buildings of a similar, if slightly less, towering caliber.
"The Renaissance Center?" I said, although I knew exactly where we were. I'd been here before, although not very often. I sifted through my memories, recalling a Saturday afternoon shopping, and then another ill-fated afternoon at the movies with Josh. I'd lost my car keys and ended up having to beg my Mom to come get us.
She hadn't. All I can say is thank Heaven for Erika's parents.
Unlike that ill-fated afternoon, tonight I wasn't a pauper begging for a ride. Well, okay, I was still sort of a pauper. But I didn't feel like one tonight. I was with Lawton, and limo or not, I knew I didn't need to worry about how I'd make it back.
Somehow I knew that even if the limo went up in flames, or we were stranded somewhere off Eight Mile, everything would be okay, if for no other reason than I wasn't in any of this alone.
It was a good feeling.
That good feeling only got better on the seventy-second floor, where we dined and drank from a vantage point that was simply mind-blowing, with spectacular views that took my breath away nearly as much as the view of Lawton, sitting across from me, looking good enough to eat.
Based on not-so-subtle glances from the women at neighboring tables, I knew wasn't the only one who thought so. I tried not to notice when a table of three women, obviously out for a girl's night, ogled him with enough enthusiasm to make me want to march over there and slap them silly.
What was I saying? Slap them silly? That wasn't me. I wasn't the jealous type. Besides, I could see why they ogled him. Cripes, I wanted to ogle him.
Probably, Iwasogling him.
I turned my shoulders away from the women, choosing to study the magnificent view outside rather than watch three bimbos drool over my date.
Okay, they weren't exactly bimbos. They looked like professional women. Still…
Stop thinking about them, I told myself. He's with you, not with them. I turned my gaze to Lawton, studying the dessert menu. If he noticed the women or their interest in him, he gave no indication.
As if feeling my eyes on him, he looked up. Our gazes held, and he smiled like there was no one else in the world but me.
Glancing out the window, I said, "Detroit sure does look a lot different from up here, doesn't it?"
