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She nods across the room, and I take Carlee’s finger, leading her to my favorite table that gives a view of the street, but blocks me from being photographed by paps.
“You’re a regular here?” she asks, glancing around. “Didn’t know this was your type of hangout.”
“You’re going to learn a lot more about me, bestie,” I mumble, and her eyes flash with delight.
Two coffees slide across the table, along with a bowl of cream.
Laminated menus are set in front of us, and Carlee’s eyes widen. “You weren’t kidding.”
“Give us a minute,” I tell Millie. “Too many choices.”
She glances between us and gives me a wink.
Carlee’s eyes flicker upward, meeting mine as I sip my black coffee.
“Stop eye-fucking me,” I mutter.
She laughs. “Or what? Going to spank me?”
“Would you like that?” I ask.
“I’d be willing to try anything once,” she says.
My eyes narrow on her. “You’d better check yourself when we’re around our friends. The bedroom eyes?Too much.”
“Bedroom eyes?” She laughs. “Come on, Weston. I look at everyone like this.”
“I hope to fuck you don’t,” I state.
She chuckles, adding a cream and a sugar to her coffee. “You’re exactly where I want you.”
It’s almost as if she knows I’m already wrapped around her pretty little finger—have been for months.
“Funny, because you’re exactly where I want you to be as well,” I admit.
A wave of excitement crashes over me, and it feels like a new beginning, a new era of me, of us.
She licks her lips. The sexual tension is almost too much.
As I look into her eyes, wishing I could read her mind, I wonder if our endgame is the same.
Maybe, somehow, we’ll both win.
14
CARLEE
I’m convinced this diner fell out of a Hollywood movie set with its checkered floor, vinyl record machine, and vintage decor. The walls are stained with nicotine, and I can only imagine the conversations that have happened at this table over a cup of coffee. It’s busier than I expected, but that’s perfect. It reminds me of a restaurant back home.
“What would you recommend?” I scan the menu, flicking my eyes upward to meet his deep blues.
He hasn’t touched his but instead sips his coffee while watching me. “What are you in the mood for?”
I chew on the corner of my lip. “What I want isn’t listed.”
That smirk I adore so damn much appears on his lips.
“Don’t start.” It comes out like a growl, and my body betrays me.