"Yeah." I slide my arm around her. Settle into the pose.
Click.
She turns to me. Pushes my hair behind my ear. Laughs as the wind blows it over my eyes.
Click.
"One more." Her palm plants on my neck. "Like this."
She leans in.
Brushes her lips against my cheek.
She's soft.
And she smells like cherry ChapStick.
It fills someplace that's usually empty.
My eyelids press together.
My heartbeat picks up.
My body screams for more.
But that isn't happening.
It's going to have to get over it. "Your lunch is gonna get cold." I motion to the burger on the other side of the table.
"Oh. Right. This first." She loads the first pic—the one of her kissing my cheek—to Instagram. Types. He's the only thing sweeter than dessert. "Too cheesy?"
"You don't mean it like that."
Her cheeks flush. "I should add an eggplant emoji."
"And the water drop emoji."
"And lips." She laughs. "Spell it out."
Fuck, the places my head is going—
Her laugh is rich. Full. She shows off her Facebook. It's right there. He's the only thing sweeter than dessert. Lips. Eggplant. Water drops.
An I'm talking about his cum story in three images.
I shake my head.
"You're no fun."
"Good."
She erases the emojis and replaces them with a winky face. "Compromise?"
"Fair."
"There." She hits post, sets her cell down, moves back to her seat. "What is this?" She stabs a leaf of kale.
"You suggested this place."
"Still."
"You love kale."
"But with a burger?"
"Someone else tell you to order this burger?"
She laughs as she points at me.
I shake my head you're ridiculous.
"You think we'll get a reaction?"
"You gonna edit it with that I love cock story if you don't?"
"Is that a dare?"
"I know better."
Her phone buzzes. She grabs it. Stares. "Not her yet." She chews. Talks with her mouth full. "Okay. This is good."
I bring a spoonful of curry to my lips. Creamy coconut, ginger, lemon, gangal, crunchy carrots. "Fucking amazing."
She picks up her knife and cuts her burger in half. "Please."
"Please what?"
"It's so… healthy." She motions to my plate. "Vegetables, shrimp, brown rice."
"You only pretend to like that orange chicken?"
"No. I…" She twirls a purple strand around her finger. "But don't you ever want something bad for you?"
"What do you call this—" I motion to her cell.
"You don't want to do this. I had to talk you into it."
No. I want it too. There's a monster in my gut dying to make Penny jealous. To show her how little I need her. How much better off I am without her.
But that's an ugly impulse.
One I should reject.
"You do want it." Her eyes light up. "Ryan Maddox. Desperate to make your ex jealous." She smiles. "You've finally come to your senses."
"I'm thinking about it."
"Good." She looks to my plate. "Now, we can work on your lunch."
"I ordered this 'cause I want it."
"But what about french fries—"
"It's a travesty. This place doesn't serve french fries."
She laughs. "Ice cream?"
"Sure."
"Sure? All ice cream rates is ‘sure'?"
I shrug. "It's not sex. It can only be so good."
"What about sex?"
I arch a brow. "What about it?"
She takes a bite of her burger. Talks with her mouth full. "Oh my God," She chews. Swallows. "This is amazing. Not sex. But—" She takes another bite. Offers me what's left of the half. "You want some?"
I shake my head.
"Your loss." Two more bites and she's done. "Have you been with anyone since Penny?"
"No."
Her eyes go wide. "You've gone a year—"
"Fourteen months."
"Fuck." She licks aioli from her pointer finger.
"You?"
"It's been… not fourteen months. But awhile."
"Why?"
She shakes her head. "We're not having this conversation."
"You've been single—"
"For two years."
"There must be a reason."
She traces the outline of her fork with her thumb. "It's not one we're discussing."
"Yeah, it is."
She shakes her head.
"You want me to agree?"
"Of course."
"Then I need to know what the hell you get out of this."
"Helping you isn't enough?"
"No." It needs to be something else. Something that will convince me this won't fuck shit up.
She stares into my eyes.
I stare back.
"Fine." She taps her fork against her plate. "You're incredibly annoying. You know that?"
"Of course."
She presses her lips together. "There's someone I want. But he's not available."
My shoulders relax.
She's getting something out of this.
Shit isn't going to get weird.
This is good.
But there's another part of me, one that hates the idea of her with this guy who—"You're the other woman?"
"No. He's just… You know what. It's none of your business."
"And my tragic love life is yours?"
"Well…" She takes a long sip of her coffee. Stares at the glass. "Okay. Yes. I want to do this because of him."
"To make him jealous?"
"No… to make him see I'm an option."
"Dean offers to fuck you ten times a day."
"It's not Dean." She takes a long sip of her drink. Lets out a soft moan. "He's nothing like Dean."
"Walker?"
"How is Walker nothing like Dean?"
"Brendon?"
"You're not gonna guess."
"I know him?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yeah." I stare into her eyes. "You deserve a guy who will move the stars for you."
She stares at her plate. Pushes her kale to its rim. "He would. If he was mine. But he's not."
"Tell me you're not as hopeless as I am."
Her laugh is sad. "Is anyone?"
"True." I study her expression. Her brow is furrowed. Her eyes are turned down. She's frustrated. And she's off somewhere else.
Who the fuck is this idiot who can't see how amazing she is?
I have to know.
"He, uh…" She takes a long sip of her iced coffee. "He's the only person for me. I've tried to get over him, but I can't. Is it the same for you?"