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“Fine. There’s a difference.” I set my mug down and tried not to smile. Drew had never called me out before. I thought I liked it. “How’s your cream puff?” He’d only taken one bite of the monstrosity. It was the size of a grapefruit but definitely not as healthy. If he didn’t like it, I’d feel bad after suggesting he order it. I freaking adored cream puffs, but I guessed not everyone did.
“It’s good.”
“But you’re not eating it.”
“I’m not much of a sweets guy. Besides, I’ve got an event coming up.”
“Didn’t you just have one New Year’s Day?” This guy had quite the shiner on his handsome face. It hadn’t been the first time I’d seen him with a black eye, but I doubted I’d ever get used to it.
“Yeah, and I won.” He looked so damn pleased with himself.
“Hmm.” I took a bite of my pastry, maybe larger than I’d planned.
Drew smiled, tapping the corner of his mouth. “You got some cream here.”
I reached for it with my tongue.
“Jesus.” Drew hissed as he handed me a napkin, his intense gaze locked on my mouth. “Please, use this.” He shifted in his seat, turned away from me, and stared out the window.
I dabbed the corner of my lip with his napkin. Had I done something wrong? I seemed to be screwing up left and right with him today. I should focus on him and what he likes. Maybe it would smooth things over with him. “You know, I’d like to see you fight.”
Drew cut his gaze at me. “You would?”
“Sure. Why do you sound surprised?”
“I didn’t think MMA fighting was your thing.”
“It’s not, but you are.”
He looked at me strangely. It took me a few seconds to realize what I’d said.
Ava, you’re an idiot.
“I meant to say ‘but you’re my friend.’ I want to support you like you’ve supported me.”
He relaxed in his chair, facing me once again. “It’s a violent sport.”
“I know that. Not all violence bothers me, y’know?”
He nodded. “If you think you want to give it a shot, let’s start at the gym. You could watch Boxer and me spar.”
“Yeah, I’d like to watch you.” My heart fluttered with excitement as we stared at each other.
It’d been a long time since I liked a guy—liked as in more than friends. Drew was different from any boy I’d dated, and not only because he was a biker and older than me. He genuinely appeared to care about my well-being. He was attentive, protective, and sweet. And drop-dead gorgeous and muscly, like the shirtless men on romance covers.
The more time we spent together, the more I wantedmore.
Hugging.
Kissing.
Sex.
I couldn’t imagine doing any of that with someone other than Drew. He was my safe place.
Too bad he wasn’t interested in me beyond friends.
“Are you ready to go?” He searched my face. “Your cheeks are pink. Is it too warm in here for you?”
