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“Doubt it.”
“Try me.”
I narrow my eyes. Well. Zack did tell me to be honest. “I’m a workaholic.”
“Me, too,” Josh counters.
“I’ve never had a boyfriend.”
“Me, neither.”
I snort. “I’ve been told that I’m high-maintenance.”
“I’d do whatever you wanted me to,” he says softly, and his low voice suddenly sounds so dirty that my insides clench. Jesus.
“How are you still single?” I blurt out. It is ridiculous that a man this hot hasn’t found a partner.
Something odd flickers over his expression. “I’m saving myself for you,” he informs me drily, leaning back in his seat. “Obviously.”
I have a feeling I’ve said something wrong, but I don’t know what. I can’t think straight. I’m starting to sweat under my leather jacket. Fumbling for the zip, I shrug it off, letting the cool air of the pub wash over my overheated skin.
Immediately, Josh’s eyes fix on the strap of my bra slipping out from my shirt. His Adam’s apple jerks. “I like this,” he says quietly, lifting his hand to touch the pink ribbon. His fingertip skims over my collarbone, making me shiver.
“Thanks. I made it myself.”
“Is that what you do?” He curls his finger in the loop of the tiny bow peeking out on my shoulder. Tingles cascade over my skin. Goosebumps pop up all over me. “You make clothes? I have a wedding coming up that I need a shirt for. Maybe I should come to you.”
“I design underwear, so no shirts, I’m afraid. Although I do have a beaded corset that you would look lovely in.”
Zack flashes me a thumbs-up.
Josh smiles, still focussed on the ribbon. “You’re like a present.” He says lowly, giving it the tiniest little tug. “Makes me want to unwrap you.”
My heart stammers. Heat flushes through me. Luckily, before I have to say anything, a man walking towards the bar pauses by our table. Josh glances up at him, his face suddenly darkening. I stiffen as he winds an arm around my shoulders and tugs me into his chest, hiding me against his front.
“Fuck off,” he says over my head. I hear footsteps retreating.
“Wow,” I say, smushed into his shirt. “Joshua. This is indecent. We just met.”
He gently removes me from his front, his hand stroking down my back. I’m breathing hard. “Sorry. Some prick with a Rolex was looking down your top.” He picks up my jacket and wraps it back around my shoulders. “Let’s gift-wrap you again.”
“A Rolex?” I tease as he tugs the zip up to my chin. “Ooh. A rich man. Maybe I should go flirt with him instead.”
He stiffens, his hand still on my throat. “Don’t. I’ll end the night in a jail cell.”
I’m pretty sure he’s joking, but his voice is so rough it makes my insides jump. “A-are we exclusive, then? I can only practice flirting with you?”
He lowers his hand. “That’s up to you,” he says quietly. “This is only our first date, right?” His eyes meet mine, hot and dark. “If you were mine, I’d want you all to myself.”
My stomach drops like I’m on a rollercoaster. I open my mouth to respond — and my mind goes completely blank.
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TWELVE
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LAYLA
