“Are you staying for breakfast?”
“Uh.” I stared at him. I hadn’t meant to do that, but it gave me an idea.
“Yeah, if you want I can stay. Before we eat, how about we take that first pic for your ArgoScape? We didn’t do that yesterday.”
“Okay … what?” He narrowed his eyes on me.
“Well, why don’t we start fake dating now? Just snap a pic of us and write one of your witty captions.” I wiggled my brows at him.
“Lewis Sinclair.” Noah tutted, then picked up his phone from his yoga mat where he’d left it earlier. “I like the way you’re thinking.”
Don’t check out his ass.
“We could sit on the couch,” I mused. “Unless you want to stress the size difference.”
Noah nearly choked on his spit. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” Bright red in the face, he pointedly looked at the couch, and I sat on it.
So that’s what it took to shut him up.
I can do that.
He settled down on the opposite end of the sofa.
“How are you going to fit both of us in a photo if you’re a mile away?” I scooted over until our thighs touched. “So, what do I do now?”
“You got a point there,” Noah muttered, gulping hard. “Uh, I ….”
“How about something like this?” I asked, throwing an arm around his shoulder and tucking him into my side.
“Y-yeah, that’s good.”
Noah pointed the camera at us, took the picture, and was about to jump up, when I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“There’s no way you can post that. I bet you look like a deer in the headlights.” Goosebumps erupted on his neck at my low chuckle.
“Give me that.” I plucked the phone out of his hand and flipped the camera over.
“You want to make it look real, Bright. Or what’s the point of it?” I held his gaze so long he blushed slightly as he stared back with parted lips and bedroom eyes.
That’s what I’m talking about, you pretty thing.
I let one side of my muzzle curl up in a smile that was mirrored on his face a heartbeat later, then glanced at his phone and snapped at least two dozen pictures.
“Here you go.” With a little wiggle of my eyebrows, I handed the phone back, and got up to drink my coffee before it was ice cold.
A dazed looking Noah followed me a moment later, perking up when he saw the cinnamon bagels on the table.
“I forgot we got these.”
“I’ll toast one for you, give it here.”
Again he looked stunned.
“What? I remember you always liked them best when they were toasted.”
Just because fifteen years have passed since then doesn’t mean I forgot.
“Still do,” he muttered.
