A shadow comes over me. “Here.”
I bite down on my lip as Rowan’s hard body presses against me. He plucks the plate out of my fingers and effortlessly slides it onto the shelf I was struggling to reach.
Ta-dum. Ta-dum. Ta-dum.
What were we talking about again? No idea. His heat blankets my back, and I wonder what he would do if I leaned—
CONTROL YOURSELF.
Keeping myself perfectly straight, I lower down from my tiptoes. But he’s too close. My butt grazes his thighs on the way down, and a flutter appears low inside my belly.
Oh God, this isn’t good. I’m supposed to keep my cool around him but instead, I’m burning up.
There’s a light touch against the side of my neck. I don’t dare breathe as he moves my hair from one side of my neck to the other and says from somewhere close to my ear, “Get dressed. You said you needed a drink, right? I’m getting you one.”
CHAPTER 19
NERO
Not even an hour after I left The Junction with Sandro, I come back with Blake.
I wave hello to Denny and do a quick scan of the other patrons. A couple in a booth, a lone guy at a high-top table nursing a beer, and a few older women drinking dirty martinis at the bar. Quiet for a Saturday.
“I haven’t been here in years,” Blake says, glancing around. “I think the last time was for Del’s twenty-first birthday.”
“Who’s Del?”
“My best friend. She moved to San Francisco two years ago,” Blake says, pulling out her phone to snap a picture of the neon sign above the bar. “I need to send her evidence that I went out. She’s always on my case for spending most of my evenings reading. According to her, my spirit animal is the hermit crab.”
I chuckle. “I can see that.”
She shoots me a dirty look. “You strike me as a—“
“Lion. King of the jungle.”
“I was going to say… Well, never mind.” She heads toward a booth in the far corner.
I follow after her. “Say it.”
“I'm worried you'll think it's unkind.”
“Say it.”
“Bird of paradise.”
I snort. “Thatisunkind. A bird? Really?”
Blake slides into the circular leather booth that wraps around the table. It’s warm in here, and she unzips her light-blue hoodie all the way. “It’s not just any bird.”
I slide in across from her. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why that one?”
“The males engage in elaborate courtship displays to attract their females. Sometimes more than one per breeding season.”
“So they’re avian man whores. Bird whores? Got it.”
Her laugh sends a zing down my spine. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be. Now, let’s see if this classic courtship display will work on you.” I get back to my feet. “Can I get you a drink?”
