“Aw, are you saying you’re going to miss me, four eyes?”
I groaned. “If I say yes, will you save me the heartache and just break things off now? Let me down easy and move on to your next victim?”
“So I’m a predator now?” The movement of him leaning his arms against the table had me sighing in part agony part bliss. I was too blind to see those muscles stretching, but I knew they were all the same.
“Fine, you’re not a predator.”
“Thank you…” His soft laughter sounded oddly victorious. “Want a sucker?”
“Luring me with candy Mr. Non-predator?”
“Nah, just testing your will power.”
“I’ve got a lot of it.”
“Me too,” he whispered, and I still couldn’t make out his face, dang it! But he seemed… sad about it? Which made absolutely no sense. None at all.
Food was set in front of me, and the heavenly aroma of crab wafted into the air.
I reached for the mallet, but Zane grabbed it and shook his head. “I think you should let the man handle the weapons.”
With a frustrated groan, I slumped forward. “You’re really controlling and condescending.”
“Funny, Jaymeson says that all the time.” A loud crack and then his fingers were literally touching my lips. “Open up.”
I did, mainly because I was so shocked he was feeding me that it was either open my mouth or get crab on my chin.
Of course Zane wouldn’t do things the easy way, he didn’t just feed me then pat me on the head, his fingers lingered on my lower lip before he brushed them with his thumb and pulled back, whispering, “How’s Helga?”
“Helga’s…good.” Voice raspy, I reached for my water again. The back of my hand met the glass, cool and slick with condensation. As I pulled back to try again, the glass tumbled sideways, ice clinking against the sides as it fell over.
Zane let out a curse and stood.
Wincing, I closed my eyes. “I just dumped water on your lap didn’t I?”
“My fault.” Zane laughed, wiping his front with a napkin. “Helga had me all overheated anyway.”
“Crabs get you hot?”
My breath backed up in my lungs. Too far? Did I just really say that?
“It was ten percent crab, ninety percent the little sound you make when eating.”
“I do not!” My cheeks heated.
“Mmmm,” Zane groaned. “Oh there, right there.”
“Zane! Stop it! People are staring!”
“You can’t see!” He laughed and then let out another loud moan as he slammed his hands onto the table. “Right. There.”
The louder he got, the more I slumped into my chair, at one point, just giving up and covering my head with my napkin while he basically took advantage of the table and chair.
“So. Close.” From underneath my napkin, I noticed his hands grip the table and give it a little shake before he fell back against his chair and let out a “Shit…that was good.”
A few seconds went by.
And then Zane was pulling my napkin off and shoving my glasses back onto my face, wearing a Cheshire Cat style grin and looking way too pleased with himself. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
“You’re insane.”
“Probably.”
“People are still staring.”
“Yup.”
“I don’t like staring people.”
“Well…” He crouched down in front of me. “They’re probably trying to figure out how you got me to orgasm with a napkin covering your head.” His lips curved up into a delicious smile. “Magic? Or are you just that good in bed?”
I straightened, ignoring my heated face. “Maybe I’m just that good in bed, ever thought of that?”
He sobered, his perfect smile temporarily breaking before he recovered and shrugged. “Now I will.”
“Great,” I grumbled. “Just what I need.”
“Hey…” He returned to his seat and started snapping the crab legs, tossing meat onto my plate every few minutes—and refusing to let me grab the mallet, pushing it farther out of my reach until I’d have to actually walk around the table to grab it. “What’s so bad about our newfound friendship?”
“You orgasm with all your friends?” What were these words? The brave ones coming from my mouth? Maybe it was him, I couldn’t help but be confident because as a whole he was completely ridiculous, too confident, too arrogant for his own good. And the whole situation was something that didn’t happen to real people, so my responses always felt like, I don’t know, like I was in a dream, or drunk. Ugh.
“Only the ones I like.” he said with a simple shrug, that dangerous smile locking onto me again and refusing to let go. “Besides, I figure we’re good for each other.”
“How so?”
“Well, clearly your life is boring without me. You’re in desperate need of a makeover before you head off to school—that is, if you ever want to attract attention of the male variety…”
I gasped.
“Don’t even get me started on your glasses.”
I stood, ready to leave.
“Sit.”
I didn’t want to.
But his eyes were pleading, like a puppy, I’d always wanted a pet growing up, but my dad quite literally shot them all, even my pet bunny.