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Tito waves her off. “You’d be surprised. I’ve met a couple. Occasionally, they are asexual, not into anything at all. Nothing wrong with virgins. I’d teach him things.” He cocks his head, studying the guy.
Becky snorts, and Lu ditches the “special breed” guy and slides back into her seat.
“Oh, I’d get him all wild,” Tito carries on, leaning back in his chair, and I have a feeling by the charged glance at me that he’s selling himself. “Newbies are the most enthusiastic in bed.”
Becky turns her unblinking gaze to me. “What do you think, Jace?”
She says it so slowly, without taking her eyes off me, like she’s waiting for me to spill some important information about myself.
I shrug indifferently, though I’m tense as fuck on the inside. “Not everyone is a pushy alpha.”
Where’s Roey?
Becky raises her eyebrows in surprise, and I freeze—I just used the words from Lu’s stories.
And the fucking guy comes back. He puts his sweater-sleeved hand on Lu’s cheek, whispers something in her ear, and I want to rip his hand off her.
She gently pushes him away with an awkward smile. “No, thank you.”
“See?” Tito says when the guy bugs off. “Looks like he wants to take our Lu for a wild ride.”
“Stop, Tito,” Lu says, waving him off.
“If he’s a virgin, he might be a fun ride,” Tito carries on.
“What?” She frowns, confused.
“Oh, nothing. We were just playing a guessing game,” he says. “Oh, that’s cute.” I meet his eyes. “Jace, you are blushing.”
My entire body just got ten degrees hotter. My glasses are fogging up. I take them off and rub my eyes. I hate those damn things.
Lu asks to help her with the drinks. She likes beer, the choice of drink that doesn’t fit with her high heels, blond hair, and jeweled jacket. My kinda girl. I mean, yeah, assumptions. Tito is right, we are all full of those.
“I think Tito got a little too sensitive over his job,” Lu explains, leaning over to me so I can hear her over the loud music as we wait for our drinks at the bar. “He hates when people assume he is a boy toy whereas he won Medical Innovation Award in college at the age of eighteen.”
“Wow.”
“And he really likes you, so he went off earlier. He won’t stop teasing you until he either gets what he wants or gets a clear rejection.”
“I’m not into guys,” I say.
“Good to know,” she blurts out, then bites down on her smile and looks away.
Oh, shit. Is she interested?
“And”—she grabs the two Martinis as I pick up our beers—“you look really good without those glasses.”
She gives me a flirty glance and a smile and walks off, and I follow on weak knees, wanting to pick her up, carry her home, and kiss the hell out of her.
Home… That word again. We share a home, and this makes my fantasies even wilder.
Those glasses are really my weakness because when we reach our table, they are on Becky.
Fucking Becky.
She cocks her head at me with a cold smile, her eyes narrowing dangerously through the fake lenses.
Shit.
