He feigns shock. “You are one of those people who don’t eat crust? That’s criminal.”
“Let me guess. You have the handcuffs,” I answer dryly.
The guy winks at me. “You know that answer.”
My chest rises as I suck in a big breath. Will we go in circles of flirtation? It’s foreign waters for us. Or has everything between us been foreplay all along?
“Did you see old lady Mrs. Tiller watering her flowers the other day in her pajamas?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, not this time. She told me once that at her age she deserves to live the way she wants and fuck those who judge. She actually loves the F-bomb. I guess she is healthy as a fiddle.”
Keats lifts his shoulders up, unsure. “I think she has a daughter who checks in on her.”
“The Labrador across the street escaped and stole spareribs that someone was having for their BBQ. Then the kids chased the dog down the street with a squirt gun. Except, Labradors love water, so it was a lost cause. It was cute.”
He grins. “We’re gossiping about the street together now? You forgot to mention the neighbor who ran their car into my mailbox, except it only seems to have been a nudge. My guess is she was trying to piss me off when she told me.”
I click my inner cheek. “Oh, but it was fun.”
Keats drops a half-eaten slice of pizza on the box. “Since we seem to be somewhat civil and have gone through our list of questions about each other, do I dare ask…” He seems to be struggling.
My face turns puzzled, and I grab another piece of pizza. “Uhm, not sure what you’re thinking.” And a lightbulb turns on in my head, causing me to bounce off my stool. “But I can’t believe we forgot to open alcohol. I mean, how else will we digest the… recent events.” I’m unsure if I phrased that right.
Strolling to the fridge in search of a bottle of wine, I feeleyes on me, even when I open the fridge. Why has Keats gone silent? Is he checking out my ass or something? Holding up a bottle of white, his response is a dangerous laugh under his breath.
“You might want something stronger.”
Shrugging, my lips quirk out. “Why? I already made a few bad decisions tonight.” It’s impossible to hide my smirk.
His brows rise then fall, enjoying my comment. “The thing is, I kind of need a favor.”
I stand still with the bottle of white in my hand. “Asking me for a favor is a bold move.”
“Really?” He isn’t impressed. “I literally carried a box upstairs and then made you come. I think a thank-you might be in order.”
Setting the bottle on the counter, something sparks annoyance inside of me. “Seriously? We are doing tit for tat, and now I’m indebted? What in the world could you need from me?”
He circles around the island and approaches me with a cunning appearance and a glint in his eyes. “Agreement, and I have no issue with splaying your legs open again to get that.”
Stop it, thighs, do not compress together to handle the sensitive pulse between my legs.
I’ve never denied that this man is hot as hell, have I?
“Good to know.” My tone is flippant as our eyes latch.
“Since we don’t involve emotions, you and I, then you’re easy?—”
I’m quick to protest. “I am not easy.”
The corners of his mouth twist as he plants himself in front of me and perches against the counter in a relaxed posed with ankles crossed. “I didn’t mean it like that. What I’m trying to say is that I need someone to accompany me for awork function. As much as it pains me to say, you seem to be an option.”
“Nope.” My lips smack the P. An inkling inside me is leading me in the direction that I think it is. Something to do with said work function.
“Women tend to get a little clingy around me, with unrealistic expectations.”
I roll my eyes. “Humble,” I say, sarcastic.
He has the audacity to tap his finger on my hand clasping the unopened bottle.
