“Of course.” He looks down to where my hand is still wrapped around his arm, and I quickly release him. He smirks again, then turns and walks away. I can’t help but keep watch.
“He has a nice ass,” I tell Delaney, still focused on that perfect backside. And that’s when he stops in his tracks, and I glance up to see him looking at me.
“You can touch it anytime you please,” he says, then winks and strides away.
“Holy shit, talk about chemistry. What the hell was that? And who the hell was that? And why the hell did he look at you like he wanted to eat you?”
“That was a lot of ‘hell,’” I say to her. “Maybe that’s where I’m going if I do anything with that man.” I laugh and continue to drink my wine. It’s not that I was keeping him a secret from her. It’s just that it’s Delaney’s night, and I wanted her to fill me in on everything that’s been happening with her. But now, as she sits across from me, happily filled with food and wine and with a curious expression on her beautiful face, I know she’s going to ask me every single question. The thing is, there’s not much to tell. Yes, there’s an attraction there. There is absolutely no point denying that, but attraction doesn’t mean you should act on it, even if Arlo doesn’t think so.
“Does he really know the chef?” she asks.
“Yes. He owns this place.”
Her eyes go wide. “Hold on, have you been here before?”
“Well, yes, but I didn’t actually eat anything. He brought me here for lunch, and I didn’t stay long before I left.”
“They aren’t even open for lunch,” she says, mesmerized.
“I know. It was just the two of us.”
“How romantic.”
“It isn’t,” I shoot back more forcefully than I probably should. “He’s so rude and cold. And he clearly only wants me for my body. I sometimes think he doesn’t even listen when I talk.” I jump in my seat as he stops at the table, holding a small cake.
“I listen when you talk. I listen to everything you say, Cora. And even the words you can’t quite bring yourself to say out loud to me.” My attention is drawn to his hands again as he places the cake carefully on the table. Those rough, veined hands speak of strength, of someone who uses them and knows exactly how to. I barely resist the urge to lick my lips. His movements are masculine, controlled, and undeniably hot as he simply sets the cake down, winks, and casually walks off.
“You scared him off,” Delaney accuses.
“Please. I don’t think that man’s afraid of anything.”
Delaney starts talking again, and I glance over my shoulder to find Arlo sitting at a table not too far from ours. I didn’t even notice that he’d stuck around. Probably because I’ve been having so much fun catching up with Delaney, and I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings.
I take a photo of her with the cake, and she smiles her brightest kind of smile, and I know I’m going to post it later. I have other friends in the city, but I don’t love any of them nearly as much as I love her.
“Happy birthday, beautiful. I’m so proud to have been your friend for all these years and watch you grow and be by your side.” I hold up my glass, and she clinks hers against it.
We stay for at least another hour, just talking and catching up on all things happening in our lives. She tells me more about the man she’s seeing and says she’d like me to meet him if their weekend away goes well. I’m one of the closest things to a family she has, so, of course, I agreed because I want to see if this man is good enough for her. Not that I think anyone would be good enough for her kind heart.
Just as we stand, Delaney glances behind me, and I know she sees Arlo sitting nearby. I’ve tried to avoid looking over my shoulder for the last hour, and I’ve done a pretty good job. As I reach into my bag, I feel my wallet. With Arlo interrupting, I forgot about it. But now I’m confused because I swear it wasn’t there before.
The server steps over and informs us that dinner has already been paid for.
Delaney lets out a little “Oh!” and I roll my eyes because I know who took care of the bill.
Finally, I chance a look in his direction to find him sitting by himself, a full glass of what could be whiskey in front of him, and staring right at me.
“You should thank him,” Delaney insists.
“No, we have to go. Movies and popcorn. We follow the same plans every year.”
She waves me off. “Don’t hate on me and tell me I’m getting old, but I really want to crawl into bed and go to sleep. So, I’m going to leave, and you’re going to thank that gorgeous man over there for our dinner. At least thank him for me.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Go. And thank you for tonight. It has been so good.” I offer to walk her out, but she turns me down and heads off before I can say another word.
Once she’s out the door, I turn to face Arlo. He’s still watching me. Gathering my confidence, I go over and take a seat across the table from him. That’s when I notice a piece of black-beaded jewelry wrapped around his fist, which wasn’t there before. I remember briefly seeing it at the café. Furrowing my brows, I wonder what that’s about.
Even from across the table, I’m close enough that I can smell his cologne, and it smells fucking divine. I notice he has a bottle of the same wine Delaney and I had, along with a single empty glass. His cockiness knows no bounds. Before I have a chance to do it myself, he pours me a glass with the hand wrapped in the necklace, then slides it over to me. His glass of whiskey still appears untouched, but do you want to know what’s not untouched? My body, with the way his gaze keeps skimming all over it. It feels invasive, and at the same time, it’s thrilling to know this man wants me so much. A part of me is telling me this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I never mix business with pleasure. I keep them separate at all costs. I know a lot of my agents don’t, but I’ve always tried to make it a personal rule.
I guess rules are meant to be broken.
