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My gaze transposes to a good-natured glare. “A third.”
“Two slices.” Slater defiantly folds his arms across his chest. “Best offer I got.”
Snickers and headshakes leave me in tandem. “We both know those cakes are one of the main reasons he insists on working with you.”
“You meanonlyreason.”
“Nah. You’re too much fun tonotwanna be around.”
Faint redness coats his cheeks during an almost bashful beam. “If you uh…if you say so, Angel Cake.”
The shakiness of the floating words combined with their baby blue shade leads to me having another sip in an attempt to pretend I don’t notice the uncertainty in the air.
Does he…does he really doubt that?
Does he really doubt that that’s one of the reasons women are always looking for excuses to stick around his life? I mean…yeah…it probably…most certainly…has something to do with the other hotter…stickier…activity…but women can get good dick anywhere – or so I’ve overheard. Most women only hound a guy that hard when he has more to offer.
When they wantmorethan they’ve been offered.
However, these are purely observational reports.
I haven’t had enough experience in my life to brand that shit as facts.
Two boyfriends and one accidental fling – I thought we were going to be more – isn’t a substantial amount of information to create an accurate analysis with.
“Why the interrogation on Blu?” His crystal coloring evens back out. “You got somethin’ for us?”
“You guysjustgot back!”
“And?”
“And I haven’t even been sent authorization for you to be back upforassignments yet.”
“Yeah, but you can look past that.”
“Not when youliterallyfail to cross your Ts and dot your Is on your analysis paperwork more than any other operative I’ve ever met.”
“I’m not that bad.”
“You aresothat bad.”
“I’m kinda that bad,” he warmly concedes on a chuckle, “but let’s pretend that I’m not and tell me what’s on the docket.”
“No clue.” One leg crosses over the other. “I’m running a little behind schedule because I was flagging some discrepancies I stumbled across.”
“How behind?”
“We’re talking, Ijustmade it intel before Reynold’s Clydesdaled his ass in here to complain about assignments.”
“Bet my truck after our little heart to heart that he doesn’t make that mistake twice.”
“Heart to heart?” I snicker between sips. “Is that what that was?”
“That’s what we’re gonna call it.”
Additional laughter reverberates around my private office overpowering the faint tunes of Panic! at the Disco pumping through my speaker system.
“I’m gonna grab my cake and let you get back to sortin’ plans on how to save the world-”
