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But she’s not mine to touch.
By the grace of God, I manage to keep my hands to myself, holding them up the way I did at the bar as I back away. “You’re not wrong.”
“That’s all you have to say?” Her eyebrows snap together. “Seriously?”
“What do you want from me, Lu?”
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Louise?”
I feel a surge of anger. “What’s that about? You going back to Louise.”
“I grew up.”
“I thought you liked Lu.”
“You lost your Lu privileges a long time ago, Riley.”
“And the blonde—”
She shoves me again, harder this time, and I nearly groan at the heat that slices through me at how fierce she is. Her wildness.
This is the Lu I fell head over heels in love with.
“I like the blonde,” she counters.
“You didn’t back then.”
“I’m allowed to change my mind.”
The words tumble out of my mouth before I can think better of them. “Do you like the blonde? Or is it someone else who likes it?” Her mama is a blonde, and always told Lu she looked better as one too.
Lu narrows her eyes, a rueful smile playing her lips as she shakes her head. “Look at you, pretending to know the girl you never gave a shit about.”
I swallow. “You have every right to hate me.”
“I do.” Her tongue darts out between her teeth to swipe her bottom lip. “I hate you, Riley. So much I can’t even tell you.”
Fuuuuuck. Now I can’t stop looking at her mouth. “I did care. And seeing you now—running into you today—makes me realize I still do.”
Her eyes go feral. “Why are you still lying when it doesn’t matter anymore?”
“But it does. It matters to me, at least. What can I do to make you believe me?”
A pause. The air between us crackles as her eyes toggle between mine.
We both look up at the gentle knock on the door.
“Helllooo!” Chef Penelope peeks her head inside my office. “Everything okay in here? I heard, ahem, some raised voices.”
“Fine!” Louise and I answer in unison.
“Need another five,” I say.
“I’m leaving,” Lu says.
“Another five,” I repeat.
Despite the skeptical furrow in her brow, Chef has the grace to nod and say, “Sure. Okay. Just—yeah, let me know if y’all need a mediator or, um, the police, all right?”
“Won’t be necessary.” I nod at Chef. “Thank you, though.”
Chef turns, allowing the door to start closing behind her. Lu darts forward to catch it. But I’m faster, bigger too, and I flatten my palm on the door and slam it shut. I can’t let her leave believing I stole from her.
I have to make her see that my intentions were—are—good.
But then Lu spins around, nostrils flaring. She’s trapped between me and the door, my arm an inch from her head. “I said I’m leaving.”
“Let me explain.”
“Go to hell.”
“The Lu I know would—”
“Stop”—she fists my shirt in her hand and looks me in the eye—“calling me that.”
Need rips through center, wiping my brain of every coherent thought except I want. I can smell the rum on her breath. See the fire glittering in her eyes.
“You hated bein’ called Louise, which means I hate it too. I’m putting my foot down here, Lu.”
She lets out a bark of sharp laughter. “Are you serious? Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m the guy who cares enough to talk. So let me, goddamn it.”
“How about you let me go?”
I glance down at her hand, which is still fisted in my shirt. Did something happen with the boyfriend? The girl I knew would never cheat.
“How about you let me go, Lu?”
She blinks. Cheeks burn bright pink. She flexes her fingers and drops her hand.
I catch it, my own fingers locking around her delicate wrist.
What the fuck are you doing? Wasn’t I just saying I need to put some distance between us?
But then Lu does that thing again where she licks her lips. “Call me that one more time—"
“Don’t forget you’re in my restaurant.”
“Don’t forget the food you make in this restaurant comes from my recipes.” Her breath is coming in short, hot spurts. “If you published a cookbook too—”
“Naw. That, I left for you.”
Her eyes catch on mine. “Fuck off.”
I wait for her to pull away. A beat passes. Another. Each one charged, heavy. Part of me is frustrated we’re talking in circles. Another part is relieved. Are either of us at all ready for the truth tonight?
“You really want me to fuck off?” I don’t recognize the scraped-bare sound of my voice.
The hardened points of her nipples brush against my chest as she takes a sharp inhale. “Only kind of fucking I’m interested in with you, yes.”
I manage a soft chuckle. “That why you chased me back here?”
“I chased you because you stole from me. I wanted to hear you say it, that you’re a thief.”
