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He stuck out his hand again. “Let’s let the past be the past tonight. You want a platonic experiment, I’ll give you the platonic experiment of a lifetime, though those things might actually contradict each other. If you want a good kiss and that’s what all of this is about, to see if you’re broken or if they were all losers, and yes, I was listening, then I can do that. You want the whole experience. Take my hand. We’ll pretend this is a date. You have to get in the mindset, or the kiss isn’t going to be good, no matter what.”
“I’m crazy and it probably won’t be anyway, given that I hate you.”
“They’re pretty much the same thing, so don’t worry. I think you can find some stirring of emotion to get inspired by in that pretty little head of yours. You have a good brain. Make it produce some chemicals for you.”
“You’re ridiculous.” She stared at his hand like it was a viper.
“Ridiculous but true. You want that kiss to be good? Like the other women think it is? You want the full experience? Then let me warm you up. I’m not going into it cold. And I’m not walking away from this with you thinking that I don’t know how to do something as simple as kiss.”
“Maybe you don’t.”
He winked at her. “That’s not the general consensus. Now.” He skipped the hand and wrapped his arm around her waist, jamming her up against his side. It felt like someone had stuck their hand down his throat, grabbed his lungs, and was trying to wrestle them out. His cock agreed. It hurt just about as much. Then again, the stupid jeans he was wearing were a Christmas gift from his mom and he put them on to humor her, even though they were too tight in all the wrong spots. It was probably just a badly sewn crotch cutting circulation off to his most vital member. A denim condom of sorts.
“My cherry shake awaits.” He dragged Alix up, and literally dragged was the right verb, to the window so they could order. He really was starving. Part of him wanted to get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible. The other part of him actually relished the prospect of getting to kiss her.
She was beautiful. Taboo. Off limits. He liked off limits. He liked taboo. He enjoyed beautiful. Just not when it came to her. Not normally. He’d thought about her for two damn days and three even longer nights. It was time to get that shit over and done with so they could both put whatever stupid feud they had going on in the past, where it belonged.
He couldn’t take one more question from his mom about where Alix was or if she was mad at them. His mom was a sweetheart. She’d had enough to worry about in the past two years as it was. He didn’t want her to think it was because of something she did that Alix never came around.
“Hey, Ross…” the girl at the counter flashed him a knowing smile that made Alix dig her nails into his palm. “What can I get for you?” Her voice was pure syrup.
His eyes swept to her name tag. Brittany. Fuck. He couldn’t remember ever going out with someone named Brittany. Okay, going out was the wrong term. He couldn’t remember doing anything with her. Maybe he’d just been there so many times that she knew his name and liked to flirt. Flirting wasn’t a crime.
Alix’s nails dug into his palm again as she flexed her hand. Apparently flirting was a crime in her books.
“A cherry shake, double cheeseburger, and a chocolate vanilla soft serve swirl with a butterscotch shell.”
Brittany twirled a stand of her blond hair. Weren’t people who worked in kitchens supposed to tie that shit up to avoid shedding it in everyone’s food? She flashed him her row of pearly whites. She was pretty, in that annoying, perky, cheerleader sort of way. She batted her eyelashes and barely moved to write the order down on the pad of slips in front of her.
She kept staring at him instead, which made Alix shuffle her feet anxiously. Finally, she tore her hand away, dug in her purse, produced a twenty, and slapped it down on the open windowsill. Brittany practically bared her teeth.
“That should be about right?” Alix asked in an even sweeter tone. The kind of sweetness that was mixed with honey and arsenic.
“Yeah.” Brittany glared back. She scribbled something on the slip. “Let me get your change.”
“That’s alright. Keep it for your tip.” The last word spat out like venom and Brittany wasn’t happy at all about the six or seven odd dollars. She disappeared and Ross turned to stare at Alix.
