Page 51 of Not That Into You

“Here.”

Before I can grab it, he leans forward and vigorously wipes my mouth as if I were a child with ice cream all over my face.

“Hey!” I say, my voice muffled by napkin.

Laughing, he leans back, and I grab another napkin and wipe my hands before balling the napkin up and throwing it at him.

He grins. “Uh-oh. Looks like I missed a spot.”

I give him a look meant to communicate, Do I look stupid?

He laughs again and then leans forward. “Come here.”

I try to grab the napkin from him. “I’ll get it,” I say before adding under my breath, “If there’s really anything there.”

He smirks. “There is. Let me take care of it.”

He cups my face and draws me forward as he uses his other hand to dab the napkin around my mouth. Holding my breath, I keep completely still.

“There.” He smiles smugly, but when he looks up, our eyes meet, and his smile slips away. My breath returns, shallow and uneven, as his gaze intensifies.

He’s still cupping my face, our bodies leaning toward each other over the table. I try to think of something sarcastic to say to break the sudden intimacy, to cut through the electric tension, but my brain has gone offline, and I can’t seem to look away.

His eyes darken as he slowly runs his thumb back and forth along my bottom lip, leaving tingles in its wake. My lips part, and he drops his gaze to my mouth. Just as I’m about to lean in, I catch myself.

What am I doing?

Moving back abruptly, I clear my throat and look around for my water before raising the bottle to my lips and drinking deeply, my eyes trained on the table.

When I finally look back at Cameron, his expression is carefully blank. “You should try an oyster.”

He pushes the plate toward me.

“Aren’t they an aphrodisiac?”

And why did I just ask that?

I close my eyes and try to rewind the day to before we sat down. Better yet, before we arrived, before the armadillo incident.

Cameron laughs. “I can’t tell whether you see that as a selling point or not.” He wiggles his brows. “But it’s good to know where your mind is.”

I push the plate back toward him. “Whatever.”

Whatever? That’s the best I can do? I grit my teeth as I grab the plate of fish and chips. I’m not hungry anymore, but maybe if I stuff my mouth full of fries, it’ll prevent me from saying anything else stupid.

The corner of Cameron’s mouth lifts as if he knows exactly what I’m doing. He picks a fry off the plate, lifts a brow, and then pops it in his mouth. I’m not sure what game he’s playing, but I’m not interested.

Time to pivot.

“Do you come here often?”

He grins. “That sounds like a pickup line.”

I give him a stern look while mentally berating myself yet again.

He leans forward and gives me a smoldering look. “You know you already have me, right?” He runs a finger along the top of my hand. “All you have to do is ask.”

And I want to wipe that smug look right off his stupid face.

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