all riled up like this.
She raises a brow and walks backwards, looking at me while she leads the way to my booth. “Did I look bad the other days?”
A part of me hates that she’s being smoother than me, but another loves that she’s flirting.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Then why the surprise?”
We stop beside my table. She places the menu over the surface, and leans against the edge of the wood. Instead of taking my seat, I stand right in front of her.
“I’m not surprised.”
She blushes and stares at me, eyes wide and unblinking, as if she’s expecting me to say something else. She looks even prettier that way, and my hands can no longer remain in my pockets. They need to touch her.
I bring my right hand up to her silky hair, and tuck a lock that is at the side of her face behind her ear. She’s wearing a silver earring with a teardrop-shaped turquoise; it makes her eyes look greener than usual. I gently touch the cold rock with my fingers before sliding them through her soft hair. After last Saturday, I half expect her to recoil, but she doesn’t. She stands almost motionless, the rising and falling of her chest the only movement noticeable. My eyes never drift directly to her chest, but it’s not without conscious effort. Especially seeing how much my touch is affecting her. It appears as though the action of breathing is no longer automatic to her, but forced and clipped, heavy and exaggerated with no real pattern. The corner of my lips curls in a suppressed smile.
Suddenly, Lexie peels her eyes from mine, and steals a look over her shoulder at the empty restaurant. I follow her gaze, and see that the only people watching are a couple of waitresses standing by the corner of the diner. They are eyeing us funny, holding hands and whispering to each other.
“Mathew.”
I turn to look at her. There’s a weird mixture of emotions in her expression. Her lips are turned into a side smile while her brows are slightly frowned. “You should really go back to being a jerk, before I stop disliking you.”
The words confuse me for a second. In the next it sinks in and . . . Hell NO!
I cock a brow, and pull my lips in a smug smirk. “Are you sure about that? Liking me could be really good, Lexie.”
“I doubt it. I’m sure it’d be all kinds of bad.”
That reply makes me want to throw her over the table beside us, and kiss her until she’s begging me to take her home. Her stubbornness is almost as sexy as her red lips. Almost.
“That’s usually better.” I add a wink to the end of the sentence to drive the point further.
Blood fill her cheeks, and if she were any other girl there would be some eyelash batting and hair flipping happening. She’d stick out her tits, and bite her lips. But Lexie isn’t any girl. And I love it.
She rolls her eyes, like I’m being difficult and she’s done with it. “Will you just be a jerk?”
I lift my shoulders. “Some would say I am being one.”
“You’re being a cute jerk. Be a jerk jerk, like an asshole.” I smile at the word cute . It’s my least favorite compliment, but the only one I seem to get from her, which means it’s starting to grow on me.
“You’re sure?” I ask, a laugh threatening to break free.
She nods.
I push away from the table, and turn around to take a seat. “Good. So now take your ass from my table. I plan to eat here as soon as you decide to stop this ridiculous flirting, which I no longer have any interest for, and start doing your job.”
Compared to the things I said to her before, this is mild, but those words roll off of my lips with such ease and conviction that I could convince myself they are true. We stare in silence at each other long enough to make me regret saying them, and even coming here. For her sake, I keep my face expressionless.
And then I see her lips twitch. She’s amused. Thank God!
I fight a smirk as an idea pops into my mind. I pull my wallet from the side pocket of my cargo shorts, and
She raises a brow and walks backwards, looking at me while she leads the way to my booth. “Did I look bad the other days?”
A part of me hates that she’s being smoother than me, but another loves that she’s flirting.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Then why the surprise?”
We stop beside my table. She places the menu over the surface, and leans against the edge of the wood. Instead of taking my seat, I stand right in front of her.
“I’m not surprised.”
She blushes and stares at me, eyes wide and unblinking, as if she’s expecting me to say something else. She looks even prettier that way, and my hands can no longer remain in my pockets. They need to touch her.
I bring my right hand up to her silky hair, and tuck a lock that is at the side of her face behind her ear. She’s wearing a silver earring with a teardrop-shaped turquoise; it makes her eyes look greener than usual. I gently touch the cold rock with my fingers before sliding them through her soft hair. After last Saturday, I half expect her to recoil, but she doesn’t. She stands almost motionless, the rising and falling of her chest the only movement noticeable. My eyes never drift directly to her chest, but it’s not without conscious effort. Especially seeing how much my touch is affecting her. It appears as though the action of breathing is no longer automatic to her, but forced and clipped, heavy and exaggerated with no real pattern. The corner of my lips curls in a suppressed smile.
Suddenly, Lexie peels her eyes from mine, and steals a look over her shoulder at the empty restaurant. I follow her gaze, and see that the only people watching are a couple of waitresses standing by the corner of the diner. They are eyeing us funny, holding hands and whispering to each other.
“Mathew.”
I turn to look at her. There’s a weird mixture of emotions in her expression. Her lips are turned into a side smile while her brows are slightly frowned. “You should really go back to being a jerk, before I stop disliking you.”
The words confuse me for a second. In the next it sinks in and . . . Hell NO!
I cock a brow, and pull my lips in a smug smirk. “Are you sure about that? Liking me could be really good, Lexie.”
“I doubt it. I’m sure it’d be all kinds of bad.”
That reply makes me want to throw her over the table beside us, and kiss her until she’s begging me to take her home. Her stubbornness is almost as sexy as her red lips. Almost.
“That’s usually better.” I add a wink to the end of the sentence to drive the point further.
Blood fill her cheeks, and if she were any other girl there would be some eyelash batting and hair flipping happening. She’d stick out her tits, and bite her lips. But Lexie isn’t any girl. And I love it.
She rolls her eyes, like I’m being difficult and she’s done with it. “Will you just be a jerk?”
I lift my shoulders. “Some would say I am being one.”
“You’re being a cute jerk. Be a jerk jerk, like an asshole.” I smile at the word cute . It’s my least favorite compliment, but the only one I seem to get from her, which means it’s starting to grow on me.
“You’re sure?” I ask, a laugh threatening to break free.
She nods.
I push away from the table, and turn around to take a seat. “Good. So now take your ass from my table. I plan to eat here as soon as you decide to stop this ridiculous flirting, which I no longer have any interest for, and start doing your job.”
Compared to the things I said to her before, this is mild, but those words roll off of my lips with such ease and conviction that I could convince myself they are true. We stare in silence at each other long enough to make me regret saying them, and even coming here. For her sake, I keep my face expressionless.
And then I see her lips twitch. She’s amused. Thank God!
I fight a smirk as an idea pops into my mind. I pull my wallet from the side pocket of my cargo shorts, and
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