She leans back, resting against the bar, still grinning. “Ben’s twenty-one. If I was dating him, I’d be a cougar. I’m almost thirty.”
“I know how old you are. And you’ll be thirty next month.”
Like I could ever forget her birthday. It’s the same day as mine.
Our gazes latch and she swallows audibly before glancing away, directing her focus on my fry basket rather than me.
Her hand reaches over, grazing my arm as she sneaks a fry. Mesmerized, I watch her take an aggressive bite of it before plopping the second half of it in her mouth. Those red lips look even poutier with something between them.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the image of her withsomething else between her lips—on her knees, looking up at me with glassy, glowing eyes.
Her eyes pinch, forehead creasing adorably. “What’s that look for?”
“Nothing,” I say feigning innocence. “Tired. Long day.”
“Heard that.” Her shoulders drop as her eyes lose some of their luster. She looks tired.
“Everything okay?” I ask, risking setting her off. She’s never been one to like being asked if she’s okay or if she’s tired, plus we’re still on delicate footing in terms of this friendship.
She sighs and reaches for another fry. I nudge the basket closer to her. She can have the whole damn thing as long as it means keeping her talking, keeping her close.
“It’s nothing. I haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.”
There’s a hollowness in her voice, a downturn to her lips. Whatever it is, it’s more than just not sleeping well. She forgets that I can tell when she’s lying. I don’t care if it’s been ten minutes or ten years, I know all her tells. And her biggest tell is when her gaze darts down and to the left, avoiding eye contact.
“If you need anything, I’m here.” My eyes latch to hers, trying to convey how serious I am. It’s not a throw away statement. All she has to do is ask, and I’m there. Hell, I’m there even if she never does ask.
“I should go over there. Socialize. Try to be nice.”
I don’t want her to leave. The amount of times I’ve imagined coming home to her after a long day at work and losing myself in her, it’s too many to count. Even now, in this shit bar, with only a brief conversation, I already feel a million times better. I feel revitalized, like she’s breathed new life into me. She’s fucking magic and has no idea. It’s like I’ve been living in a decade-long fog of black and white, and the moment I’m back in her orbit, my life is in color.
Without considering the repercussions, I reach out for her,wrapping my hand around her wrist. She looks down at where I’m holding her and then back up to my eyes.
“Want a drink first?”
Breathing out a sigh, her lips curl down. “I already ordered a cranberry juice. I don’t like drinking when I’m still in work mode.”
“Want the rest of my fries?” I’m acting desperate and I don’t care. I want her to know I’m desperate for her.
“Dominic,” she starts. It’s a cautious whisper.
“I had a long day, but just getting to see you made it better.”
She looks down at my hand still wrapped around her wrist and gently shakes it loose before crossing her arms tightly. “What are you doing?”
“I think you know what I’m doing.”
I’ve been obvious. Embarrassingly obvious. At this point, my pride is non-existent.
“Well, don’t.”
If the rejection didn’t sting like a bitch, I’d probably laugh. She sounds like she did in high school, her claws coming out in defense.
“I don’t know how to stop,” I tell her honestly.
With her, I have no game. Any smoothness I possessed is gone.
She looks away, glancing back at her three interns and then locks eyes with me for a brief moment, before dropping her chin down. “I—I can’t. We can’t.”
