The flavors are unforgettable. I order every appetizer and entrée our stomachs can hold. Festive cocktails, fruity, vibrant, and dangerously smooth, snake through my veins, each sip warming me from the inside out, giving me liquid courage. The booze works its magic, and before I can second-guess, I hold out a shrimp taco to Marley.
“Try this.”
She pauses, and I notice her cheeks flush as she quickly scans the restaurant to see if anyone is watching us. Then, slowly, she leans forward, her lips parting as she bites into the taco.
I catch a stray drip with my hand beneath, but it’s her reaction that wrecks me. Marley’s eyes flutter closed, and a soft, satisfied moan escapes her as the flavors hit.
My pulse spikes, my mind swimming in a pool of inappropriate thoughts.
Marley savors the bite with a pleasure that makes my dick jump against my thigh. I drag my eyes away, forcing down the ache that’s building inside my chest, but it’s a losing game.
I clear my throat. “So…which one’s your favorite?”
On top of the dip sampler, quesabirria, jalapeño fries, and guacamole, we’ve tried the Mahi-Mahi, Kalua pork, pineapple chicken, and now the shrimp tacos.
Marley nods, her mouth chewing slowly, and her eyes pinched closed in pure ecstasy. Seeing her taken aback by a fuckin’ taco puts me in a choke-hold. I want to be the one to make her feel like that.
There is a bit of sauce at the corner of her mouth, and she swipes it away with her thumb. The way she puts it in her mouth and licks the juice from it has me damn near about to lose my shit.
“Definitely the shrimp,” she answers, her voice soft as she covers her mouth mid-bite.
I smirk, bringing the same taco to my lips.
“Let’s see what all the fuss is about.”
My expression bears the same as hers after a massive bite.
She’s right. This shit is good.
But then I wonder how goodshetastes.
Down, boy. Tone it down.
I grunt and straighten myself under the table. “I need to know,” I pause to swallow my food. “Are you still on that dating app?”
“What? Hooked? Oh no. I couldn’t take it seriously.”
“The dates you went on or the app itself?”
“Both.”
“Same. I mean, think about it. Online dating is literally online shopping for adults.”
She laughs out loud, covering her pretty mouth with her hands. “I’ve always thought of it that way. And the guys I was matching with just seem like a bunch of men ready for situationships.”
I shoot her a look of amused confusion. “Situationships? What the hell is that?”
“A thing where two people explore an unspoken arrangement physically and romantically. I mean, some people love it, but for someone like me, I can’t deal with inconsistency, the lack of effort, and pointless conversations that lead to nowhere. It’s just a full-out mess that eventually leads to resentment.”
“Okay,” I snicker, blown away by her response. “I think I’ve been in a few of those before.”
“We featured an article about it in my magazine once.Ten Signs You’re in a Situationship. You’d think my love life would be top-notch with all the advice we give, but no. I still can’t seem to get it right.”
“I’ve never called them situationships, but that’s a good way of putting it.”
“Because that’s literally what they are. I couldn’t take anyone on that app seriously, though.”
“No one to match what you were looking for?”
