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Nervously, I gun the engine while Lucas types on his phone. Seconds later, he exclaims, "He wants to join us. I'll tell him to meet us there."

A thin sheet of sweat breaks on my forehead because I wasn't expecting to see Christopher so quickly, especially after admitting the rather unorthodox effect he has on me.

***

"And then the coach told me I would be an assert to the team," Lucas exclaims through mouthfuls of cake. We're all at the coffee shop, listening to his play-by-play recount of the tryouts.

"You mean asset," Sienna corrects him.

"No. I'm sure he said assert," Lucas insists. Sienna looks away, snickering, while Chloe keeps muttering “asset” and “assert,” as if she can judge the correctness of a word if she says it often enough.

I love this place. It's a quaint mom-and-pop coffee shop with a decor that seems stuck in the nineties, but cake recipes have definitely kept up with the times. What I especially like is that they have booths, which offer privacy.

Next to me, Christopher shakes his head, prodding Lucas with more questions. We haven't spent time alone since he joined us here, but the man is constantly touching me. He brushes my hand each time he reaches for his glass of soda, and his thigh rubs against mine occasionally, lingering a split second too long for it to be accidental.

"Okay, if everyone's ready, we should head home," I announce about an hour and a half later. There is a general sound of disagreement from the kids, but they don't fight me.

"I'll go ahead with Lucas and Chloe, get Chloe in her seat and everything, while you pay," Sienna offers after I ask for the bill.

"Great idea," I say, handing her the car key.

After slipping into their jackets, they take turns saying good-bye to Christopher and leave the coffee shop just as Ms. Winters, the owner, waitress, and all-around kick-ass woman who runs this business, hurries our way in obvious distress.

"There's a slight problem with the cash register,” she says. "But it should work again in a few minutes. I’ll bring you some Turkish delight to make up for it. It's a new recipe. I think you'll like it."

"Wow, thanks," I call after her, because she's already hurrying back to the front. I'd tell her I have no problems paying without receiving the receipt, but I know her golden rule. She never takes money without handing out a receipt for it.

Scooping out my phone, I text Sienna to start the car and turn on the heat because I'll be a few minutes late. As soon as I drop the phone in my purse, Ms. Winters returns with a small plate filled with Turkish delight.

I become acutely aware of Christopher's fingers trailing up and down my back.

"Thank you for including me in your celebration," he says.

"Lucas wanted you here."

Leaning into me, he whispers in my ear, "And you didn't?"

His proximity is intoxicating, and it prompts a confession out of me. "I wanted to see you so badly, I ached."

Christopher's fingers dig slightly into my back, and not really knowing what else to say, I pop a Turkish delight in my mouth. Oh my word, it's delicious.

"You have powdered sugar on your mouth," Christopher informs me.

Frantically I wipe away at it, but he chuckles. "You just smeared it everywhere."

He slips his hand under my chin, turning my head in his direction. Following suit, I shift in my spot until my upper body faces him too. Christopher dusts his fingers over my mouth, rubbing with his thumb on the left corner. Then he drags it down to the center of my lower lip and desire spears me instantly. A low moan tumbles out of me, and we both suck in our breath, the space between us suddenly feeling too small. He peers behind me, and it takes me a second to realize he must be checking whether there are guests in the booth opposite us. There aren't. I already checked earlier.

Christopher closes the distance between us, sealing his lips over mine. His kiss is like a breath of fresh air on a warm spring morning. Crisp and invigorating, taking over all of my senses. I succumb to it all, entwining my tongue with his, probing and tasting. He explores me like a man determined to uncover my deepest secrets. His hand cups the back of my neck, his fingers digging into my hair. The gesture sends a jolt right through my center, all my nerve endings zipping to life.

His mouth is a thing of wonder. I could drown in him like this for hours.

When we pull apart for air, we rest our foreheads against one another’s, the tension between us so thick I could bite into it. Christopher's hand is still at the back of my neck, and he tilts my head slightly to one side, trailing his mouth down my cheek until he reaches my ear.

"I've been fantasizing about this for weeks," he whispers in a low, delicious voice. "I'm so hard right now, I can barely see straight. But I can imagine all the ways I could love you right here on this table."

"Christopher!"

"Don't say my name like that or I'll kiss you again, and this time I might forget we're in a public place."

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