Page 8 of Remy

“Would you prefer if I didn’t sit so close?” His eyes narrow, reading me, increasing the scrutiny. “I thought you could use me as cover instead of making it obvious when you glance over your shoulder… but if you’d prefer?—”

“No, it’s fine.” I shake my head. “I appreciate it.”

“Then tell me who you’re hiding from. Is the situation scandalous, Ollie?” His voice dips to a deep purr. “Are you dating a married man?”

I want to swoon at his tone. Instead, I lick my drying lips, my pulse thudding when I return my gaze to his and find his attention on my mouth. “It’s far from scandalous.”

My cell vibrates in my hand, thankfully giving me an excuse to look away in case I break into a fit of idiotic giggles. I check the latest message in my long-standing group chat with Ivy and Allison.

Allison

Update please.

I type back?—

Me

I found Dad in a darkened corner of a dive bar with a younger man.

Ivy

Has Daddy found himself a twink?

I choke on air.

Me

What the hell, Ive? No. Why does your mind always default to sex?

Ivy

Why doesn’t yours?

“I admire how you don’t hide your emotions,” the stranger murmurs as if to himself. “Usually women are cagey in an attempt to be mysterious. Yet your feelings dance across your features untamed.”

“They do?” I slide my cell onto the table and raise my gaze, becoming dumbstruck by his heated scrutiny all over again.

Nobody has the right to have eyes so dark and hypnotizing.

“Yeah, Ollie, they do. I’m going to need all the details on this man of yours. The jealousy is eating me alive.”

I scoff, not buying his player game, but enjoying it all the same.

With any other person, in any other place, I’d be attempting to frantically escape the social interaction. In fact with any other stranger, I’d be in a full-scale meltdown over being caged in this booth. Instead, I find myself wanting to scoot closer. To sink deeper into the woodsy scent invigorating my lungs.

“Well, you can inform your jealousy that the reality of my current situation is extremely dull.”

He raises a brow. “I find it hard to believe that there’s a single thing about you that isn’t entirely fascinating.”

There are more tingles. Flutters. Pitter-patters.

“Nice line.” I chuckle.

“Not a line.” He takes a mouthful of scotch, the bob of his Adam’s apple making me salivate. “If I thought I was worthy of a woman like you, this conversation would’ve breeched X-rated territory the moment our eyes met.”

My cheeks flame. Parts down south do, too.

He smirks. “You’re too fucking cute.”

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