She was watching him across the bar. She knew that getting him to talk would be difficult but this was ridiculous. He'd even resorted to alcohol, forsaking his usual tea for something stronger. It was so out of character that she had originally hoped that it had been to give him some dutch courage but as time ticked by that seemed less and less likely.
He was already on his third beer and was definitely trying not to look at her, instead pretending to immerse himself in the conversation that Dwayne and Fidel were having. Unfortunately this particular conversation (like every other involving Dwayne) was about the most recent woman he'd been out with – something that Richard didn't find remotely interesting. Nevertheless he um'd and ah'd at all the right moments of the conversation and prayed to God that no one would notice that he wasn't listening.
He took a deep breath tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. Sighing, he went to shake his head in an effort to rid himself of his thoughts before stopping mid action. He didn't want to draw attention to himself. He could still feel his cheeks burning from the exhilaration of earlier and even if it wasn't visible to his colleagues he knew that it wouldn't take much to bring it back. He would never be able to find suitable answers to their questions – so best to hide the blush if possible...
He was trying desperately not to think of the afternoon's events. Or rather he was trying desperately not to think of the conversation he would have to have with Camille at some point because of the afternoon's events. Oh God. He wanted to put his head in his hands but managed to restrain himself.
When he had said yes to discussing their relationship earlier he hadn't been thinking properly. He still had her taste in his mouth, the touch of her skin on his fingertips and her scent surrounding him. Earlier he had been intoxicated by her. But now? Now he was terrified.
So he nodded to Dwayne when he offered up another drink, even though he hadn't really wanted one, and settled himself in for the evening.
He had no idea why they even had to talk anyway. Things were fine as they were, weren't they? A little awkward perhaps but that's how he generally was around her, it wasn't anything he couldn't deal with. Besides, not talking hadn't had any adverse effects so far –in fact things had worked out in his favour. He hadn't felt the need to talk through anything after their first liaison and had been rewarded for it by Camille initiating the second. All he'd done was be his same self – well alright, he had been a little different towards her. He had found himself smiling at her more, and she had seemed to like that. But, he honestly didn't think that he had changed his manner towards her all that much in the intervening week after the first hour they had spent together in the office.
He was still wracking his brains trying to work out what had made her bundle him into the cells earlier that afternoon when his hand went instinctively to his neck to loosen his tie. Without thinking about it he looked up at her and caught her watching him with a familiar expression on her face...he quickly cast his eyes back down again. Surely it couldn't be the tie, could it? No, it definitely wasn't the tie, the notion was ridiculous. But if it wasn't that, then what was it? He was under no illusions about the way he looked, she was gorgeous and he was, well decidedly more average than that. He was also struggling to believe that she actually wanted to be with him for who he was.
Perhaps she was bored. Or hormonal. Or both. He'd read that women in their 30s often had a vastly higher sex drive than men. Yes, that was probably it. Happy with the conclusion he had just come to regarding their relationship he settled back into his chair, pleased that there was now no need to discuss anything. Hormones. Yes that was definitely it. He could imagine the embarrassing conversation he'd just been saved from about how "she was sorry and how it couldn't happen again, it was a one off (well alright then, a two off), she'd just needed to scatch an itch, blah blah blah."
With a sigh he pushed all thoughts relating to Camille and his tie out of his mind, picked up his drink and forced himself to concentrate on Dwayne and Fidel again. At least he still had his beer, even if Camille wasn't interested in him.