Page 137 of Wanted Beta

She’s not walking away. I smile back. “Then let’s get going.”

I don’t want to waste a single minute of the time I’m getting to spend alone with her.

Chapter Sixty-Four

Beth

It feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders, knowing they both like me for real. At the same time, I’m crazy-nervous over what that might mean if I actually end up dating them.

All I can do is tell myself it doesn’t matter right at this moment.

I’m here to help them fix the issues with the restaurant.

Once that’s done, we can talk about dating.

It’s a short walk in comfortable silence.

He unlocks the door when we get there, and holds it open for me.

I step inside, to find Arrow sitting on the reception desk, dressed in stylishly worn-out jeans and a shirt that’s almost the same amount of threadbare-on-purpose. If I thought he looked like a model before, now he looks even more like he just stepped out of the pages of a magazine.

“You’re here!” he exclaims, jumping down and coming toward us. “Finally!”

“Are we late for something?” I ask, as Jack comes inside.

He laughs. “No. Arrow’s just ready for lunch. That’s all.”

“I’m beyond ready,” Arrow corrects him.

“Then, go tell Enzo Beth is here so he can take the food out of the oven,” Jack suggests as he locks the door behind us.

“I’m on it,” Arrow says, sprinting through the dining room toward those big double doors that lead into the kitchen.

“He must really be hungry.”

“Well, Enzo decided to cook lasagna for lunch and it’s one of his favorite things. We have other options if it’s not something you’d prefer to eat …”

“Are you kidding me? My mouth is watering just thinking about it.”

He laughs, like I’m joking. I’m not.

It’s easy to tell where we’re eating since it’s the only table that’s set for a meal. There’s already a jug of water and glasses waiting for us.

Jack pulls my chair out for me. “Sorry, it’s hard to switch out of waiter mode when I’m here.”

“That’s okay,” I tell him as I sit down. “I like being looked after like that.”

“Then, let me pour your water,” he offers, picking up the jug and pouring like an expert into the waiting glass.

He pours for everyone, and then sits down, after hesitating for a second.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Habit,” he admits. “I usually bring the food out to the tables.”

“Can I let you in on a secret?”

“Let me in on as many as you like.”

---