Page 36 of If You Like It, I Love It

“No worries,” I say. “I’ll just hold it next to your heart until it’s chilled.”

She cracks up. “Damn, I deserved that. Well played.”

“You know I don’t actually think you’re cold-hearted, right?”

“My actions can come across that way sometimes.”

“Not your actions, just your words.”

She pauses and stares at me. “How do you do that? That should be offensive, but the way you say it, it just comes across as true. A hard truth, but not offensive. Not everyone can communicate like that. I obviously can’t.”

“Yes, you can. There’s nothing wrong with your communication skills when you open up. Your heart’s not cold, it’s just overly guarded.”

“How old are you again?”

“Grown. Can I get that beer now?”

She has to push aside the heavy plastic that’s draped over the fridge to open the door. I didn’t realize she’d put anything inside it yet, but given how excited she was when it arrived, I should’ve known she’d stock it immediately.

When she turns back around, she’s holding two beer bottles by the necks in one hand, her fingers laced between them. She stepped out of her shoes when we brought the food inside, leaving her barefoot, and her jeans are faded and worn, the frayed hems skimming the floor. If I told her how beautiful she looks right now, she’d roll her eyes, shake off the compliment. But it’s true. She looks relaxed and happy, so casual and unbothered—at home not just in this space, but in her own skin. Sexy. As. Hell.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.

“How am I looking at you?”

“Ambiguously.” She sets the beers on her plastic-covered Carrera marble and fishes a bottle opener out of a drawer, careful to reset the plastic after she closes it. “Like you’re not sure if you want to eat dinner with me or eat me for dinner. Literally, not in a dirty way.”

“I want to eat dinner with you. And then, I want to eat you in the dirtiest way possible. Literally.”

“You set the bar pretty high with that chair against the counter while I drank my coffee.”

“Just imagine what I could come up with while you drink a beer.”

“I think I need food before I accept that challenge.”

“Oh, you definitely do. I’m imagining some very long after-dinner entertainment.”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I might just go to sleep after dinner.”

“Hey, no kink shame, babe. However you want to do it is fine with me.”

She does a spit take with the first drink from her bottle. “I’m only laughing because I know you’re joking.”

“I only made the joke because I knew you’d know that.”

“I know.”

“You are so incredibly pretty.”

“Um, thanks.” She shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

“I mean it. I call you beautiful all the time, but I need you to know I’m not just using the word like an easy nickname. You are truly beautiful, inside and out. Even when you don’t see it, you should know that someone else does. And I know I’m not the only one, but I’m a pretty big fan of yours, Joni Prescott. All of you.”

She blinks and turns her face away. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You don’t need to say anything back. I just needed to tell you. We should probably eat those sandwiches now.”

“Yeah. We should do that.”