“You know…” He looks down at the glass in his hand. “Water’s fine for now. I’m just here to hang with you in between orders.”
I glance down the bar, my insides skipping when I notice that no one needs anything. Leaning back down, I rest my chin in my hand and ask him, “So, where were we going to be right now?”
“Well…” Skimming his fingers lightly up my forearm, he hopefully doesn’t notice what a huge effect such a simple gesture has on me. I love the pads of his fingers. I love how delicate his touch is. “I was gonna take you to an Italian place.”
“Oooo. Italian. I love me some Italian.”
“Right? Pasta is the masta.”
I laugh. “Where did you hear that?”
He snickers. “My sister said it constantly when she was going through herI want to be a chefphase. She was obsessed with pasta. I swear I gained like twenty pounds that summer.”
Stretching over the counter, I make a show of checking out his body, then give him an impish grin. “Doesn’t look like it.”
He laughs, patting his flat belly. “I had to work my ass off when I got back. Literally.” His eyebrows rise and I laugh again, resisting the urge to tell him it paid off, because damn… he looks good.
That thrill of desire races through me again and I have to stand straight, create some distance between us before my panties get wet.
Seriously. What is wrong with me?
How about the fact that you haven’t had sex in nearly three years?
Or maybe it’s the fact that Tyrell is crazy stupid fine, and if you were gonna have sex with anyone, then you’d want it to be him.
But the fact that he’s a full-blown hottie is not the only reason why… and that’s even scarier than sleeping with a random stranger.
My insides crinkle at the thought, my mind racing as I try to figure it all out.
Sex with Tyrell will actually mean something.
That’s the scary part.
“Hey, you okay?” Tyrell’s fingers skim my arm again, and I force a smile, nodding.
What am I supposed to say? “I’m horny as hell and can’t stop thinking about you boning me”?
We haven’t even been on a proper date yet. I should not be feeling this way. It’s new. We should take things slow and easy. A few kisses can’t mean an instant lust-fest.
Shaking my head, I back away from the bar a little further.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Tyrell’s sweet concern is making my heart buckle now.
“Um…” I point down the bar. “I just need to go… and… restock.”
It’s lame and pathetic, and the way his eyebrows dip with worry has guilt lashing me as I scurry down to the other end of the bar.
What are you doing?
You should be hanging out with him! You’re together now.
This is weird.
Is Tyrell Jackson my boyfriend?
Am I?—
“Excuse me. Can I grab two Coors Lights, please?” A man with a genial smile holds up two fingers, and I fulfill his order, glancing down the bar as he’s tapping his card.
