Page 11 of My Three Billionaire Rockstars

Her breath shifts, and there’s a half-second delay before she snaps back into herself. “I didn’t ask to be pursued.”

“No,” I agree easily. “You didn’t.”

I straighten just enough to reach for my coffee again, taking my time with it, letting the silence stretch while she tries to figure out where this is going.

“I didn’t ask you to spill breakfast all over me either,” I add, glancing at her. “But here we are.”

Her mouth twitches despite herself. She fights it.

Loses a little.

Good.

“You’re really something else,” she mutters.

“I get that a lot.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

I set the mug down again, then let my gaze move over her slowly. Her weight shifts, subtly.

“Stop that,” she says.

“Stop what?”

“That,” she repeats, gesturing vaguely at me. “The… looking.”

I tilt my head. “You’d rather I didn’t?”

“Yes.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

Her brows pull together. “Why?”

“Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I walked out of here.”

She stills.

“I don’t believe you,” she says.

Her throat moves when she swallows. She hates that I see it.

“I get a lot of people coming through here,” she says, trying to recover ground. “You’re not that special.”

“I know I’m not.” That throws her more than anything else I’ve said so far. “I’m just the one who came back.”

She arches a brow at me as she turns to serve someone else.

A chair scrapes somewhere behind me. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

I don’t need to turn to know that voice.

Still, I do.

Theo Hill looks exactly as I remember and not the way he should after fifteen years. A little more gray at the temples, a little more weight in his shoulders, but the same easy stance. The same knowing look.