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Zach was reading my text.
Eileen had finally noticed something amiss. With a pout, she peered around, spotting me. Her lips pressed into a hard line.
She guzzled down half her drink.
Zach:
You’re not flirting with this guy.
Zach:
He’s not your type.
Farrow:
How do you know?
We were now openly ignoring our dates.
Zach:
Because he looks like a clump of talc powder and is probably just as riveting.
I hated that he was right. And I hated that he was giving me crap for dating someone when he was literally doing the same.
Farrow:
For your information, he’s fascinating and nice.
Farrow:
Might take him home.
Zach:
Don’t you dare even joke about it.
Zach:
You’re mine.
He was unapologetically possessive, when he had no right to be. White-hot anger coursed through my veins.
Before me, Anderson had moved on to discussing whether unsolicited nudes could even be considered harassment.
Without thinking, I reached across the table and clasped his hand in mine. He gasped, but his surprise morphed into cockiness quick.
With a grin, he kissed the back of my hand. Bile hit the edge of my throat.
He scooted his seat closer. “I see I’m not the only one who noticed our chemistry.”
Bitch, the only chemistry going on here is the botulinum toxin I want to feed you.
“The chemistry is there.” I tried to keep my wince in check. “I feel it, too.”
The phone in my lap pinged in quick succession.
Zach:
