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I’m a bit shocked how well she pegged me. “How do you know Cole fits that description?”
She laughs. “I know you better than you think. He’s probably rolling in Daddy’s money.”
He is, but how did she know that?
“You got something against money?” I smirk.
“So tell me more about this Cole guy?” Decker asks, without any judgment in his tone. “Beside the fact that he’s rich and works with you.”
“I don’t know him that well, just that he’s cute, and he dresses well,” I start, realizing how shallow I sound. “We obviously have things in common.”
“Just your job, it sounds like,” Cara points out.
“Is he funny?” Decker asks, studying me.
“I mean, he could be.” I shrug. But no, I don’t remember him ever making me laugh.
“I see,” Decker replies, dragging the words out.
“You wouldn’t actually date him, would you? He works with you,” Cara reminds me.
“Yeah, don’t shit where you eat,” Decker adds ever so eloquently, grinning. “I did that once and it ended with my face on fliers throughout the station with the wordsNO. 1 JERKon it.”
“Don’t look so proud there, buddy,” Cara says as she nudges him.
“What did you do to her to deserve this?” I ask.
He holds his right hand up. “I plead the Fifth.”
I shake my head, but can’t help but laugh.
“I still wouldn’t date someone you work with,” Cara says, looking concerned.
“I’m not going to get myself in any trouble, don’t worry,” I tell them as I get up to go to the bathroom. As I turn around the corner, I end up walking straight into a hard brick of a man on the way, bouncing back off his chest.
He instinctively reaches out to stable me, hands landing on my shoulders.
“Oh, sorry,” I say to him, the same time he says, “Sorry, are you okay?”
I look up, far up, into his blue eyes. He lets go of me.
Oh shit.
It’s the man from last night.
The biker.
We stare at each other for a few long seconds. Last night I recognized how attractive he was, but today there is something about him that leaves me speechless. Maybe it’s because he’s not wearing his cut, instead just jeans and a black Henley, form-fitted to his body.
“I’m—”
“Beautiful,” he whispers, cutting me off.
I pause, unsure if I heard him right. Did he just call me beautiful? “I’m sorry?”
That snaps me out of the daze and I don’t know what I’m talking about at this point, but I try to walk around him. But he has the same idea and moves right into my way once more, and then we do the awkward move again.
He stops, and starts laughing, while I roll my eyes.
