Until his gaze snaps away from me, going for a cherry tomato the same color as his cheeks.
“That’s got nothing to do with you,” he says roughly as he pops the tomato in his mouth, and I down the tart, giving in and moaning deeply at the next wash of syrup.
Jealousy gnarls through me at how he’s got Ollie tucked away somewhere, and I can’t see her.
“Well, maybe I like this so much I want to order my own,” I hum as I go to pluck a grape, and he lets me. Which already feels like a win, along with the fact that my shoulder presses against his, and he’s not jumping away. I need to go in gently instead of casually asking him if he’s down to fuck because a piece of fruit’s making me horny.
“You really can’t smell that?” I say, running the grape under my nose. “Not even a trace?”
“You fucking know I can’t,” he growls, and I hesitate. I fight my need to apologize. He gets pissed off every time I try to talk about what I did to him, and annoying him right now is easier.
“Give it another go then.” I smirk as I hold it up to his lips. “You never know what might change if you try.”
Though I’d been flirting with him for years, he’s never responded.
He glares at me again before he tilts his head back, looking me straight in the eye, and his lips slowly part.
My world stills as he extends his tongue, sliding along my thumb and over my nail as he sucks the grape into his mouth.
He doesn’t break his stare as he rolls it, his teeth snapping shut as he crunches it in half, and I feel it echo through my body.
His throat bobs as he swallows it, and my chest tightens as my fingers hover in the air above him.
I want more. I need more. If Timber’s finally responding, then maybe there really is hope.
But he leans back as if nothing has happened as he licks juice from his lips. I’m pinned to the bench as another scowl rides his face like he hasn’t just destroyed me in a second.
“I don’t know why he bothered with all of this, really,” Timber says huffily. “It’s not like it matters what I eat.”
My hand trembles as I lift it. I know he can see me as I lick his taste from my fingers.
I could never compare Timber’s scent to real coffee; it’s something so much deeper and alive. I can taste his anger and frustration in it, but I can’t tell if the tang of horniness is his or mine. It’s so sexy I feel like I’m melting under his glare.
Dragging in a breath, I slump back against the wall as his scent and the sweetness emanating from his lunchbox make my head spin.
“Who? Who is it?” I gasp. “Just tell me who made this for you.”
At the sound of my voice, he shoots back so quickly that the bench rattles, and the openness he showed me seconds ago vanishes as he closes up.
“No one,” he replies stiffly, obviously lying. “Now, why don’t you leave me the fuck alone to eat in peace?”
How the hell am I supposed to leave it when my scent match is connected to him? I need to solve this mystery quickly, or I’m in for another night with my hard cock as I resist the urge to send Ollie dick pics so I don’t scare her away. I told her I was a gentleman.
I put on a fake smile and straighten my back like I haven’t just been gut-punched. I’m a delicate soul, really. One taste of my mates together and I’m head over heels. Though Timber will knock me out if I tell him I already think of him like that.
“How can I leave you alone when you’ve got such a tasty meal?” I ask. “You said it’s too much, so let me share it with you.” Because I’m basically drooling just looking at those neat rows of lovingly prepared snacks. I love picturing my omega layered with piercings and chains, cooking up something pretty like those little tarts.
“No, it’s mine.” He suddenly clutches the box, pulling it out of my grasp. I would have been just as protective if it were anyone else but Timber reaching for them.
When he acts like that, it makes me want to tease him even more. It’s so dumb, but it feels like he’s getting defensive over Ollie, and it makes everything a million times sexier.
That’s how quickly I’ve spiraled in the days since meeting her. I’ve gone from idolizing her memory to getting horny over a freaking lunchbox.
I click my tongue as I push myself to my feet. I have to get out of here before I make it any worse.
I still lean in close for one more hit of his rich coffee.
“Sure, I’ll leave. But I’m going to keep bugging you for that name. So you could give it to me now, or I’ll buzz around you like a mosquito.”
