“You’re not supposed to make aftercare hot,” she whispers.
“Too late,” I say, kissing her knee. “You make everything hot.”
I slide up beside her, pulling the blanket over us. Her back finds my chest like it was meant to be there.
I know this isn’t love yet.
But hell, I’m halfway there.
And I don’t think I’ll survive it if this wholefriends with benefitsthing ends up being a dead-end.
Not with her.
Not afterthis.
29
FAITH
The doors to Holloway’s Hideout lock with a satisfyingclick, the last wave of energy from the night still buzzing in my limbs. My apron’s stuffed—again. Best tip night of my life? For the second time this week.
I sit at the bar and start counting, but I know Daphne’s watching me.
“You doin’ okay, girl?” she asks, leaning on her elbows like she’s got all the time in the world.
“Never better,” I say breezily. But she raises one brow.
“That’s your ‘everything’s a mess but I’m pretending to be chill’ voice.”
I shoot her a look. “Can’t fool you, huh?”
She just smirks. “Never could.”
I sigh and finish counting. “You need a ride?”
“Only if we’re stopping for fries on the way.” She grins. “And maybe if you’re finally gonna tell me what’s up with you and Mr. Holloway himself.”
I freeze. Blink. “What do you mean?”
Daphne gives me apleaselook. “Faith. You think it’s not obvious? Hun. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. The tension? The lingering glances? I may not be wearing my glasses, but I’ve got eyes.”
Heat creeps up my neck. I push my money into my purse and clear my throat. “We’ve… hooked up. A little.”
“A little?” Daphne’s eyes widen, then she fans herself dramatically. “Oh, this is better than reality TV. Wait—how long has this been going on?”
“Not long. A few nights. Just…” I trail off, searching for the words. “It’s nothing serious. Friends with benefits, I guess.”
Daphne scoffs. “Girl, the manundressesyou with his eyes every time you walk by. You’re telling me that’s casual?”
I laugh, but there’s a knot in my stomach. “I know what I said. And I meant it. He lied to me, Daphne. About something big. So… we’re just having fun. That’s it.”
Daphne’s quiet for a beat. “Fun doesn’t usually make you look like you’re about to write poetry and cry in the car.”
I shoot her a glare. “Shut up.”
“You shut up,” she teases gently. “Just… be careful, okay? Hearts don’t always follow rules. Especially not when abs and smirks are involved.”
I turn the ignition once we’re in the car. The dash glows dimly in the dark.
