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“Uh-huh.” Given how much tech had changed in the last three years, and the hoops I’d had to jump through to find him, I didn’t believe for a moment he’d let himself get rusty. Besides, he loved the challenge as much as I did. “Tell me another story,” I teased.
“Says the woman who tracked me down.”
“I didn’t start looking until our probations were over.” Because I wouldn’t have been able to stay away if I’d found him sooner. “And you did a fantastic job of hiding yourself for someone who’s been obeying the rules.”
“You found me, so I didn’t do that great a job.”
“Your words, not mine.” My tone was playful. This was what I missed. Looking at Graham was nice, but the ease of our conversations… I’d craved that.
He let his grin break through. “I have been working on a theory, and I’d like your input.”
“Of course.” My excitement rose another notch. Whether he was talking about technology or something else, I was in for wherever the tangents took us.
“If a balrog ran a restaurant, where would he put it?”
Chibi Luna clapped with glee in my head. “Trick question?” This was a game we used to play all the time, spawned from the fact that the only things most Final Fantasy games had in common, were the name, the crystals, and the elementals. That conversation had become a challenge to fit all sorts of unrelated worlds together.
“Completely serious. Why?” Graham asked.
Because the answer was obvious. “Hell’s Kitchen.”
He groaned, but his smile never wavered. “And Luke Cage is his head chef, because he’s the only person in the world the balrog doesn’t accidentally set on fire?”
“They have a super low crime rate.” I ran with the idea. “He’s basically an unofficial Continental”—like in John Wick—“where no business is allowed on his grounds. Someone called him on the rule once, and he enforced it. No one’s questioned his authority since.”
Graham leaned in. “But he’s got a soft spot for the neighborhood kids.” Amusement and excitement bubbled in his voice. “They love his place at Halloween. Best. Candy. Ever.”
Because a balrog chef would make the best treats. “Popcorn balls with a lot of cinnamon and a hint of habanero. Plus, he’d rock the decorations, walking that fine line between terrifying and whimsical.” I could picture it, and the imagery made me laugh with delight. “The kids scream in terror when Mr. Balrog jump scares them, and they all love every minute of it.” Everything about this made me giggle.
My laugh died when I realized how intensely Graham watched me.
“You look good.” His serious tone was back.
GeezI wanted him to kiss me. Did he really think I looked good? That wasn’t the kind of thing people said to just be polite. This was a key reason I didn’t like small talk. I wanted to assume everyone was sincere.
“You look good too.” The words tumbled past my lips. I couldn’t take them back now. Screw this. I rose on my toes, leaned over the table, and pressed my lips to his.
When he didn’t return the kiss, my blood ran cold and my face scorched flaming hot.
Before I could pull away, Graham slid his hand to my neck and held me captive as he deepened the kiss. He worked his mouth hungrily over mine, devouring my soft whimpers and licking away my doubt.
This blew fantasy out of the water, and it was only a kiss. The kind of toe-curling attention that made my blood sing and would keep me warm for a long time, all by itself. I gripped the edge of the table for balance. Were people watching?
If so, I hoped they enjoyed this almost as much as I was.
When Graham broke away, I gasped, and forced my jaw not to keep working. I licked my lips inside, like he’d done seconds before.
He let me go and sank into his seat. His frown was the frigid polar opposite of what I felt. “I’m sorry, Luna, I can’t.”
I stared at him in disbelief, waiting for him to finish the sentence. I can’t… wait to get you back to my place and get naked. I can’t… believe we had to be apart this long. Nope. He was done talking.
“You can’t… be serious.”
He raked his fingers through thick, dark hair. “I’m the last thing you need in your life.”
