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“No way,” I shake my head. “I’m not the one being interviewed.”

“We’re friends , right?” He grimaces when the word leaves his mouth, and I wonder if the broccoli didn’t taste as good as it looked. “You want to know about me, and I want to know about you.”

I roll my lips, pondering what he said. “Fine, but I’m starting.”

After finishing the rest of my meal, I push my plate to the side and flip open my notebook to the page where I wrote my questions. Pen at the ready.

“Any stiff or achy muscles?”

“Yes, morning stiffness sometimes.”

The pen hovers in the air as my eyes flick to Levi, but his poker face is so good I almost believe he didn’t mean for it to come out sounding like an innuendo. Almost.

Despite my thoughts straying where they shouldn’t, I scrawl something legible on the paper. However, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to incorporate “has morning stiffness” into my report.

“What made you come to Huska?” He asks when I rest my pen down on the page.

I stare into his eyes as he waits for my answer. He looks genuinely curious.

Rolling my lips, I debate how much I should tell him. A part of me is embarrassed to admit I ran away from my problems, and the other part doesn’t want to dredge up the past. For whatever reason, I don’t want to taint this evening with Levi by bringing up my ex.

Keeping it vague but truthful, I say, “I wanted a fresh start, and they have a good academic program.”

His brows lift in surprise, as if he wasn’t expecting that to be my answer. “Why the fresh start?”

“My turn.” I remind him. “Back to the muscle, uh…ache, how often do you have it?”

“Lately, it’s been around every day.”

Don’t react, Bear, just write down the answer.

“Where is home for you?” He shoots back.

“California. I grew up in a town outside Los Angeles.”

A sudden urge to ask him where he calls home hits me, but I remind myself that tonight has a purpose. And it's not about getting to know him beyond the questions on the page.

“Where is the ache located?” I ask instead.

“Here and there.” I give him a pointed look. “Fine, my shoulder. I have a pinched nerve that flares up occasionally.”

“Do you think it hinders your performance?” I volley back.

“No. With a proper warm-up routine and stretches, it’s manageable.”

“What stretches?”

“It’s my turn.” He leans his forearms on the table, bringing his face closer to mine. His voice drops so that only I can hear his words. “Did you touch yourself after I left on Saturday?”

I feel the color drain from my face, but blood immediately rushes back, coating my cheeks.

Our eyes lock. Mischief dances in his, and I don’t know what he sees in mine, but I can imagine it’s a mixture of terror and desire.

My body remembers precisely how I touched myself.

And how I imagined it was his fingers and not mine.

And now I’m thinking about how much better his fingers would’ve been at helping me climax.

The space between us snaps and crackles with heat, and I resist the urge to squirm in my seat.

My hand curls around my water glass, hoping the condensation dripping down the sides will cool my blazing skin.

He waits and watches, expecting me to answer, or maybe he doesn’t because even saying nothing feels like an admission of guilt.

I shake my head, keeping my eyes trained on the white linen tablecloth.

“No, you didn’t? Or no, you won’t answer?”

“I don’t want to answer,” I whisper.

“We had a deal, remember?”

“I- yes, I did,” I admit, peeking at him.

Levi’s lips twitch before stretching into a full-blown triumphant smirk.

I just played right into his hands.

Any attempt at pretending I’m not ridiculously attracted to him has been blown to smithereens.

The server chooses that moment to stop by and collect our empty plates, unaware of what he’s walked into.

“Any room for dessert?” He asks cheerfully.

“I’m stuffed. What about you, Bear?” The question drips with an innocence that wasn’t there moments ago, and I can’t even look at him.

It takes everything in me to form a coherent sentence, but somehow, I mumble a “No, thank you” without bursting into flames.

“I think we’ll take the check, thank you,” Levi says, the intensity of his stare never wavering.

By the time our server returns, I’ve composed myself enough to argue with him about who has to pay.

Another battle I lose.

***

The walk back to the apartment feels strained. I’m so turned on that I can barely think straight. My confession at the dinner table and spending hours in Levi’s company has left an ache between my legs that’s become impossible to ignore.

I try to listen and be an active participant in the conversation, but all I can think about is Levi shirtless, him running his hands down my body, him touching any part of me.

By the time we’re outside my door, I can hardly hold myself together.

“Tonight was very helpful. Thanks again for paying.” The words rush out of me.

The sooner he leaves, the sooner I can deal with this problem alone.

“Are you all right?” Levi studies my face, a frown forming between his brows.

I look away, afraid he’ll figure out what’s on my mind just by looking at me.

“Peachy.” I squeak—literally, squeak .

I couldn’t be more obvious if I tried.

“You sure? Because you seem kind of on edge. If you’re not feeling well because of the food, I can get you something?”

“No, I feel fine. It’s just I’m-” Horny? So turned on, I might combust?

Instead of answering, I bite my lower lip to stop the truth from slipping out.

I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’ve never had this primal, aching need gnawing away at me. But then again, I’ve also never experienced this kind of chemistry with someone where their presence alone has my nipples straining against my lace bra.

Levi is still staring at me like I’ve suddenly grown two heads. And maybe I have. At least it would explain why I’m so out of sorts.

He steps closer until we’re nearly touching. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

I know he doesn’t mean it in that way, but tell that to the throbbing pulse between my legs.

My expression must give something away because recognition dawns on him like the clouds parting for the sun. I see it in his knowing smile and the way his eyes light up.

Placing two fingers beneath my chin, he tilts my face up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Tell me what you want me to do, Teddy Bear.”

Everything.

My mind is at war with itself. Alarm bells ping-pong inside my head, warning me what a terrible idea telling the truth would be.

“Nothing,” I say quickly.

We’re so close I could count each eyelash framing his beautiful eyes if I wanted.

Or you could lean in, kiss him, and drag him inside.

I squeeze my eyes shut to stop myself from acting on the thought. When Levi cups my jaw, I peel one eye open.

“Stop running from this, Bear.” His words brush over me like a whispered caress.

“I’m not running. I have to pee!” I blurt.

Stepping out of his hold, I spin on my heel and make a beeline for the safety of my apartment.

“Bye, Levi.” The last thing I see when I close the door is the cocky grin on his face.

The hoodie I forgot to give back taunts me from the coffee table as I rush to my bedroom.