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I graze my finger along the center of her panties. “Try again.”
“Atlas, we can’t do this here,” she says, desperation creeping into her tone, though she does nothing to try to stop me.
“You sure?” I press my thumb against her clit, and the sound she makes goes straight to my cock.
“My god,” she breathes.
I smirk. “Am I now?”
Her gaze whips toward me, her complexion flushed and uneven. “You are—”
“Shall we contact your witch friend and move this breakfast to lunch?” I challenge, tracing my finger back and forth over her panties.
Her eyes narrow at me, and despite the anticipation written all over her gorgeous face, she says, “No.”
I pause the movement of my finger, exhaling a sigh. “How disappointing.” I pull my hand away, putting it back on the wheel, and turn onto the street as instructed by the GPS.
“Fuck me,” she grumbles under her breath, so low any human wouldn’t have heard it. Her cheeks turn pink when I chuckle as if she had momentarily forgotten about my heightened hearing.
When we pull into the parking lot, Calla unbuckles and pulls out her phone, typing out a message—presumably to let Tessa know we’re here—as she asks, “I don’t suppose you’ll wait in the car?”
I don’t bother voicing a response as I get out and walk around the vehicle to her door, opening it and waiting for her.
She blinks at me, then sighs in defeat. “Of course not.”
We walk inside, the bell above the glass door chiming to announce our arrival. The buzz of voices is rather distracting as I scan the room. Nearly everyone here is human, save for myself and two vampires near the back of the room. Their eyes turn to me the second we walk in before they drop their chins in a subtle nod. I have no idea who they are, but many vampires know who I am.
Tessa—who appears to be the only witch in here—stands from a booth along the window, waving at us.
Calla’s face lights up and a smile curls her lips. The sight gives me pause, and I can’t stop looking at her. The warmth in her smile and the softness in her expression… it threatens to steal my breath away.
She walks toward Tessa without waiting to see if I follow—it’s pretty clear she couldn’t care less—and wraps the witch in a tight embrace.
Tessa arches a brow at me over Calla’s shoulder. “You brought the grumpy one,” she says to Calla while keeping her eyes on me.
Calla laughs as the two pull apart. “He has his moments.”
My lips twitch, though I’m sure themomentsshe’s referring to aren’t the ones I’m thinking about.
Calla’s breath catches when she notices me watching her, and she presses her lips together. Hmm. Perhaps wewerethinking the same thing.
The girls slide into either side of the booth, and I take a seat next to Calla, perusing the menu pointlessly while they chat about what they’re going to eat.
When the waitress—Carol, according to the name tag on her plaid button-up—stops by our table, she brings a fresh pot of coffee and fills the mugs already in front of us.
“Thank you,” Tessa says with a bright smile, pouring at least three sugar packets into hers.
“Of course, hon,” Carol says. “You all need another minute with the menu?”
Calla and Tessa exchange a grin before the witch orders the largest stack of pancakes this place offers with a side of bacon and sausage and a fruit salad.
Calla turns to me. “What do you want?”
You. The word is on the tip of my tongue, and the jump in her pulse makes me think she can see it in my eyes. My lips twitch, and I turn my gaze to the waitress. “I’m all set, thank you, Carol.”
Her cheeks go pink and her heart races at my attention, though she’s likely old enough to be my grandmother—if I was the age I appear to be. Carol quickly gathers the menus and makes a beeline for the double doors presumably leading to the kitchen.
“Uh oh, Calla,” Tessa says in an amused tone. “You might have competition.”
