Page 243 of Chameleon Killer

“Under normal circumstances.”

“You made me excellent coffee.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

The waitress’s gaze bounced between us.

Flint remained unmoved. “Water.”

I stared at him. “You slept with me and decided to be suicidal. Interesting tactic if you think you’re getting laid again.”

His mouth twitched. “You’ve had enough caffeine to power the city—in winter with lake effect snow.”

I snorted then looked at the waitress. “Coffee.”

“Water,” Flint said.

“Coffee.”

The waitress took one cautious step backward. “I’m going to give you two another minute.”

“Coward,” I called after her. “I'll have coffee.”

“She'll have tea.”

He did not… “I hate tea.” Something he damn well knew.

“Orange juice.” His expression didn’t change nor did his tone, but I couldn’t escape the feeling that Flint was teasing me. The tension that had thrummed through me since we arrived dissolved into the playful outrage at him taking his life in his hands in an attempt to deny me coffee.

“I'm not five.”

His snort was not flattering. “Water.”

I narrowed my eyes.

Brewster watched us. Something about his expression shifted and it chilled me.

The waitress looked at Flint. “Water?”

“Please.”

“Coffee,” I told her and I could actually see the whites of her eyes as she attempted to not look warily at Flint.

She fled.

“Five bucks says she brings me the coffee,” I told Flint.

“You’re on.”

Then almost as one, we turned back to Brewster and I said, “Sorry. Where were we?”

He stared at me for a beat, then at Flint.

“You're sleeping with him.”

The statement was so abrupt I blinked.