Page 9 of Next Season
See? Everywhere.
“It’s just Riley.”
“Just Riley,” Ivan repeated, flashing a winning smile. “What can I get started for you?”
“That looks good,” he said, pointing at my drink. “I’ll have a latte, please.”
“You got it. One latte coming right up.”
I picked up my to-go cup, pivoting to face Riley. Damn, he was sexy. His red running shorts accentuated his thick quads, and his athletic shirt clung to his muscular chest like plastic wrap. I licked my lips, pretending to be entranced by the heart that looked more like a mushroom in my drink while I counted backward from one hundred.
Do not get a boner. Do not get a boner.
I tried to think of a clever exit speech, but English words dried up in my mouth, replaced by easier French ones…beau, magnifique, splendide.
Ugh. Time to go.
I raised my cup in a toast and smiled. “Enjoy your latte and…have a good—”
“I was hoping to bump into you,” Riley intercepted. He coughed as if embarrassed and briefly glanced out the window, adjusting his sunglasses.
“Oh?”
He licked his lips and switched his weight from his left hip to his right. “Yeah, I, um—”
“All set. Let me just add a little something special.” Ivan wrestled with the spout affixed to his industrial coffeemaker. When he was satisfied with the results, he handed the latte across the counter to Riley. “Here you go.”
“That looks like a penis,” I blurted before I could stop myself. “Apetitone…with a minor ejaculation. Cute, you know?”
“I might actually kill you,” Ivan grumbled under his breath.
Riley snickered merrily and examined his foam art. “No, it’s definitely a leaf.”
Ivan clapped, shooting a triumphant grin my way. “That’s right. Thank you for noticing. JC wouldn’t know art if it bit him on the booty.”
“Hmph.”
We paid for our drinks, bade Ivanadieu, and headed for the door.
“Do you have a second?” Riley asked.
I halted, tilting my chin curiously. “Of course.”
“Thanks.” He shifted from one foot to the other again. “I know this is going to sound wacky, but I need a favor. I can pay top dollar…triple, quadruple, whatever price you name. We’d have to keep it between us, and I can certainly pay extra for your discretion.”
“Now I am extra curious. Is this a nefarious request? If so, I warn you, I’m not an assassin, and I don’t make naughty art in lattes.”
His whole face changed in an instant. The tight lines around his mouth softened, and laughter creased his eyes at the corner of his glasses. “That’s okay. I’m not feeling murderous, and I’m pretty sure this really is supposed to be a leaf.”
“It’s a dick,” I stated matter-of-factly. “But I couldn’t do any better.”
“That’s okay. I, uh…need something potentially more embarrassing.”
I bugged my eyes out comically, pleased when he chuckled. “What could possibly be more embarrassing?”
“Tuna salad.”
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