Page 12 of My Downfall

“Oh, darling, the pleasure’s all mine.” He turns to Hudson. “How’d you land a beauty like that?” he stage-whispers and I can’t help but grin at him.

“Friend, Marco.”

“Suuure.” He winks at me. “Two of your usual?”

“Please,” Hudson confirms and reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet.

“Oh,” I gasp. “I don’t have my purse on me.”

“Don’t insult me.” He doesn’t even turn to look at me as he speaks.

“This isn’t a date, Hudson.”

“I don’t care. You will never pay when you’re with me.” Why does everything he does have to turn me on?

“So old school,” I taunt him.

“No, just raised a gentleman.”

“I hope that’s not always the case.”

His eyes darken, his stare holding me captive. “Not when it counts.”

Holy shit.

Chapter Eight

Hudson

She groans as she takes her first bite of her burrito. We’re sitting at one of the few picnic tables dotted around the small expanse of space that Marco has and I can’t take my eyes off her. Her eyes close in bliss as she chews the mouthful she’s just taken, another groan leaving her, and I have to subtly adjust my dick.

“You were right, this is sensational.”

Yes, it is, and it has nothing to do with the food.

“It’s my favorite spot to get breakfast. I normally like to get here before the sun rises; it comes up over that ridge there.” I point out to the distance, and her gaze follows my finger. “There’s something incredibly peaceful about watching the day start while most people are still asleep.”

“I’d like to see that,” she murmurs.

“I’ll bring you one day.” We both know that’s not going to happen, though. This is a one-time thing and even that’s one too many.

***

“Thank you for breakfast.” We’ve both finished our burritos and she’s clearing up the wrappers to put in the bin.

“It was my pleasure, sweet pea.”

“Why do you call me that? That’s twice now.”

“Sweet pea?” She nods at me. “Because you smell like them. My mom has them in her garden and you smell just like them.”

“Oh.” The corner of her lip tilts up as she tries not to smile, but I can tell she likes my name for her. So do I. I’ve never had a nickname for someone before, not a girl anyway.

“We should get going.” I don’t want to, but we’re already pushing this. We’re already doing something we shouldn’t be.

“Yeah,” she sighs, taking the helmet from me, and we climb back onto my bike.

The drive back seems to go so much quicker and in no time at all, it feels like we’re minutes away from separating. From pretending this never happened.