He takes my hand. “I’ll buy you the milkshake and then we go home.”
I stop.
“I might not want the other treat by then,” I say matter-of-factly.
I bite my lip when the familiar swoosh in my stomach makes me giddy.
Caspian’s self-control is impressive, but damn if I don’t test it every chance I get.
His eyes drag over my face.
“I hear you.”
His voice is steady, but I know that look. I’ve seen it when he’s holdinghimself back.
He’s tempted. But not enough.
“You should know by now that manipulation doesn’t work with me, sweetheart.”
That is an outrageous claim.
“I wasn’t trying to manipulate you,” I say hotly. “I was trying to—”
I fallsilent.
Sometimes it’s the wisest option.
“You were trying to do what?”
I’m more interested in the ants I see hurrying along the pavement than in looking at him.
“Nothing.”
“You wanted me to give into your whim.”
“Maybe, but it wasn’t manipulation,” I argue. “It was coercion.”
Inside the café, Caspian places the order.
I trail my finger along his tanned forearm, enjoying the beautiful strength of it.
“One double chocolate salty caramel surprise, please,” he says to the girl behind the till.
He places a kiss on the top of my head just as the lanky guy making the milkshakes turns around.
He looks stricken.
“Caspian?”
Flushing crimson, he flees into the back. Soon, we hear a muffled sob.
My boyfriend looks confused.
I, on the other hand, am serene.
Not jealous at all.
Ha. Bloody. Ha.
