Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 64929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
This had to be a dream, or a nightmare — or hell, maybe both. I wasn’t sure what it qualified as, but it definitely wasn’t anything normal.
“Yeah, of course,” I said, pretending I wasn’t trying not to stammer over the words. Offering out the mouthful of pasta, I slowly slid it into his mouth—
Special. Fucking. Hell.
“If you’re going to keep stealing my food, you should come sit by me. It’d be easier,” I found myself saying. Adrian gave me a long look, and it felt like he was trying to see inside me. Before I could start fidgeting, he glanced at the seat on my side of the booth. “It’s not that big. It will be a tight fit. Is that okay?”
“Nah, I’m used to things being tight,” I said, remembering only after I’d spoken that I was talking to my brother. He was going to run any minute now, and I wouldn’t be able to blame him. I took a gulp of my drink, berating myself. “It’s fine, I meant. Used to not having much space.”
Adrian blinked at me. “Is it okay if I sit on the inside? I think it will be more comfortable if you’re on the outside… of the booth.” I didn’t know how he could look so fucking oblivious, all while the craziest shit was running through my head.
Was he trying to make me come undone right then and there? He looked so goddamn innocent, and… Fuck, that was the problem, wasn’t it? This was supposed to be innocent. I was the one making it dirty.
I took a deep breath then got up. “Sure,” I said as casually as I could — which meant I definitely didn’t croak or almost choke on the word. “Good sir,” I said, gesturing gallantly to the seat in what was yet another bad attempt to salvage the situation.
Universe: 393,949,304. Me: 0. Adrian smiled, and a faint blush showed on his cheeks. “I’ve never had a date take such good care of me. Most of the time they seem to think I want to take charge. This is nice.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He slid his plate across the table, stood, and stepped closer. His body brushed against mine, and he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. If it had been a real date, I would have thought he was checking me out, maybe even trying to see how I’d react to things getting a little more intimate.
But it wasn’t a real date.
Was it?
Scooting across the bench, he gave the seat next to him a pat. “Now it will be easier to… share.”
The little pauses had to be in my head. He wouldn’t have made that sound dirty on purpose. I cleared my throat, my eyes flicking in the direction of the bathroom as I contemplated fleeing, but I sat down instead. I could feel the warmth of his side against my own, and it felt oddly natural despite my trepidation. I tried to tell myself that I was just cold, maybe even just lonely, but it was more than that.
There were cheesy pop songs just waiting to be written about that moment. “Yeah, um,” I said, gesturing to my plate. “Have as much as you want.” I bit my bottom lip to keep myself from offering to feed him. I was already pushing the envelope enough.
Adrian leaned closer, which I wouldn’t have even thought was possible. “How much will you give me? I don’t want to ask for too much.” “I don’t think you could ask for too much,” I said, and my voice was hoarse. I tilted my head, searching his expression and trying to figure out just how much of this I was imagining.
“You’ll tell me if I go too far, though, right?” He looked down at the food then back up at me, at my mouth. Jesus Fucking Christ.
“I’m not comfortable taking charge.”
I wet my lips with my tongue, spellbound. “Yeah,” I managed, if only barely. “Gonna have to do a lot more than this to scare me off, though.” I meant it to be a joke or something, but it ended up being more of an uncertain question instead.
“I’m counting on it. You’re going to help me with very… personal things. I don’t want to scare you off or push you away.” He gave me another of those innocent looks. “I like being with you like this.”
Like friends. That’s what he had to mean, having dinner and talking — not the other things that were running through my head. “Yeah. Me too,” I echoed. He had to be completely unaware of the effect he was having on me. Goddamn it, I needed to get laid, pronto. I should’ve taken more of my own food, but I leaned in, pressing against him as I stole another piece of his value menu steak.