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“Because. I’m not ready to enter my villain era.”
I grin. Thisismy wheelhouse. “If not now, when?”
Howie brings my drink. He asks if we want to order some food. I point him in Jen’s direction. “I’ll have what she’s having.”
“What are you thinking?” Her eyes flick down my face.
My lips prickle. “Whatever you’re thinking.” I want her to make the decision. Start breaking her people pleasing streak.
“Not helpful.”
“Order what you want.”
“Do you want to split stuff, then? Try a bunch of different things?”
“Sounds great.”
She orders oysters, raw and roasted, a kale salad, a sausage and pepperoni pizza. I add truffled mushroom pasta and a side of roasted broccolini, a recipe from Lu’s forthcoming cookbook.
“A dessert menu, too, when we’re done with those courses,” I tell him.
Jen laughs, a sound I feel inside my skin. “I won’t be able to fit dessert after all that.”
“Famous last words.”
Howie nods at us. “Y’all are cute.”
Jen looks at me. I look back. We both smile, the kind you hope holds back completely inappropriate laughter.
“See?” I murmur. “Doesn’t have to be perfect to work out just fine.”
Reaching for her drink with one hand, she puts the other on my leg. It sends a zip of fire through me. Or maybe it’s the tequila that burns as I gulp it.
“Are you talking about fake relationships?” she murmurs back. “Or are we still on the subject of phallus-y things?”
The laughter wins. Hits my sides and comes out loud. Her eyes lock on mine. They’re full of laughter too.
They linger on mine for one beat, then another. Too long to be considered friendly eye contact. The space between us tightens. Which isn’t good, because there’s not much of it. I should look away.
Instead, I look at her lips. I can already taste the Aperol onthem, its bitter edge softened by the sweetness of the Prosecco in her spritz.
My first instinct isno. I can’t kiss Jenny Monroe in public. But then I remember we want people to think I’m obsessed with her.
Which means I can indulge my very real feelings under false pretenses.
But then our food arrives, and Jen turns back to the bar. She takes her hand off my leg to pick up her silverware. The seesaw in my chest flips all the way over.
Yeah, I’m definitely disappointed. But I tell myself it’s a good thing I didn’t kiss her. I’m not sure I’d be able to stop once I start. Flirty conversation and random touches are one thing.
Sucking on her bottom lip, licking into her mouth, are another. Because when she said the wordphallus, my mind immediately went to the one she hides in my bedroom.
The one I very much want to use on her.
She still hasn’t told me what’s bothering her. Asking her about it feels like a good way to distract me from these inappropriate, inconvenient thoughts.
“You said your day was good, but that you needed a win.” I push around the salad on my plate. “What happened?”
She reaches for another slice of pizza. “I took lunch to Tuck’s house today. Everyone was there, obviously—Dad, Maren, Katie. It feels shitty lying to them.”
