She studies me for a moment, those dark eyes seeing way too fucking much. “What happened to 'this can't happen again'?”
“It's pancakes, not my dick. You need actual food.”
A slow smile spreads across her face. “Wow. Such a charming invitation. How could a girl resist?”
I should back out now. I should make an excuse and leave. Instead, I find myself saying, “Place is off the beaten path. Students don't know about it. Quiet.”
“Hidden gem?” She taps her fingers against her laptop. “I do like discovering new places.”
“So that's a yes?”
She closes her laptop with a decisive click. “That's a yes. But only because I'm starving and you're buying.”
“Fine.” I drain the rest of my coffee, standing up before I can change my mind. “Let's go.”
She gathers her things, slipping her laptop into a bag that looks too heavy for her small frame.
Her phone gets tucked into her back pocket, the movement so casual it's almost like we're not about to walk out together. I watch her every move, waiting for her to change her mind. I grab her bag and then walk to the front counter as she watches.
At the counter, I pull out my wallet while she waits by the door, scrolling through her phone. The barista gives me a knowing look as she takes my card.
“Friend of yours?” she asks, nodding toward Hennessy.
“Something like that,” I mutter, signing the receipt.
“My car or yours?” she asks as we step outside, the morning air cool against my skin.
“Mine,” I say without hesitation. “I'm not riding in whatever death trap you call transportation.”
She rolls her eyes. “My car is perfectly safe.”
“Let me guess. Some tiny little piece of shit that's more rust than metal?”
“It's a Honda, thank you very much. Practical and reliable.”
“Like I said, a piece of shit.” I nod toward my truck parked in the lot. “We're taking mine.”
“So bossy,” she mutters, but follows me anyway. “Some things never change.”
I unlock the car, watching as she slides into the passenger seat like she belongs there. Her scent immediately fills the space, and I inhale deeply, half desperate to have the smell of her burned into my senses.
“Nice ride,” she says, running her hand over the dashboard. “Very masculine.”
The way she says it, like she's teasing me about compensating for something, should piss me off. Instead, I find myself fighting a smile.
“Very observant,” I deadpan, watching her fidget with the seat adjustment. She's too small for this truck, but something about seeing her here, surrounded by my space is doing things to me I can't explain.
“Seatbelt,” I remind her, but she's already scrolling through her phone, distracted.
“One sec,” she murmurs, thumbs flying across the screen.
I wait, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel, watching the curve of her neck as she bends over her phone.Her hair falls forward, exposing the spot where I left a mark days ago. It's faded now, just the barest hint of a bruise where my mouth claimed her.
“Okay, done.” She tosses her phone into her bag and turns to me with that smile that's been haunting my dreams. “Ready when you?—”
I don't think about it. I just move, leaning across the console, my body crowding into her space. Her words cut off, eyes widening as I reach for her seatbelt. My face is inches from hers, close enough to feel her breath catch.
“Safety first,” I murmur, grabbing the belt and pulling it across her body. My knuckles brush against her chest, and I hear the smallest intake of breath. I click the buckle into place, letting my hand linger on her hip for a heartbeat too long.
