Once we’re settled at a table in the eating area, we dig in with duelling forks. He makes enthusiastic sounds as he tastes the first few bites, and I slow down, just enjoying watching him eat.
When he finally pauses, I give in to my desire to be a bit nosy. “What was it like growing up with a New Year’s Eve birthday?”
“Weirdly complicated. It’s a busy time of year for my family.” No elaboration. “But tonight feels different. Maybe you’re my good luck charm, Dr. Francesca.”
“I’m not a doctor yet,” I remind him.
“You will be. June, right?”
“June.”
“That’s cool. And then what?”
“Then I start residency.”
“Will that also be in California?”
“I hope so. There’s a matching process, but my top pick is the university hospital where I’m studying now. We’ll see if I get it.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Tell me how you’re the top candidate for that position.”
“Well, I don’t know?—”
“Dr. Francesca, believe in yourself.”
I flush with unexpected pride. “I am a top candidate for that position,” I admit. “I fucking am.”
“Thattagirl.” He uses his fork to take a choice bit of cake with the perfect ratio of icing. “Have a reward.”
Automatically, I lean forward.
His eyebrow quirks up at my eagerness. “You like that?”
I blush, feeling giddy. I’m surprised at myself, too. I’m a high achiever, but for my own reasons and goals, not to please others. But one encouraging bit of praise from Logan and I’m practically panting.
“Good to know,” he murmurs before feeding me the delicious morsel. His gaze darkens as my lips close around his fork, his attention sharpening, and the din of the bakery around us fade away.
In this moment, I think I’d do anything to hear him saythattagirlagain.
My heart is pounding as I swallow the taste of cake, even better tasting off his fork than my own.
“You got a little…” he says, gesturing at my mouth.
I lick my lower lip, achingly aware of his gaze darkening again.
“Did I get it?” I ask breathlessly.
He reaches across. “May I?”
After I nod, he brushes his thumb against my lower lip. I chase it with another kiss, feeling wild and reckless now. “Six.”
His attention stays locked on my face as he slides his fingertip into his mouth, licking the icing off.
Then he winks. “What’s next?”
We go looking for more music.
We find a jazz club, and there’s no place to sit, which doesn’t faze Logan at all.
