She looked up, obviously feeling his gaze, and scowled.
Which was not the reaction Nik typically received from people he’d kissed. It certainly wasn’t the reaction he wanted from the woman he appeared to be obsessed with, but life was not for the faint-hearted. He made his way over to her table and sat down.
She gave him a flat stare while chewing on a croissant. He briefly fantasised about licking off the smudge of scarlet jam hovering at the edge of her lip, then decided that would be coming on too strong.
“Found you,” he said.
She swallowed her mouthful. “Whoopee.”
Ouch. But he was pleasantly distracted from that sting when her tongue snaked out to lick away the smudge of jam he’d been eyeing. Watching her do it was almost as good as doing it himself. He imagined.
But enough of his imaginings. He wasn’t good at talking to people, not romantically. He had no practice, since he typically didn’t have to try. This conversation, therefore, would require all of his concentration. “Good morning,” he said, offering his most charming smile. All of his smiles were charming, according to his agent, but this one was definitely the best.
She nodded, a sort of jerky head-tilt that only went up, rather than down. “Hi.”
He was surprised she’d responded at all, considering the extra-strength aura of fuck off she was giving out. Truthfully, after last night’s kiss, that aura might as well have been a dog whistle. When it came to her, he was definitely a fucking dog.
“I’m sorry to intrude on your breakfast,” he began, “but I wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday. It was kind of you to help me when we are strangers.”
Aria sighed as if considering a great tragedy. “I don’t know what I was thinking, to be honest.”
“I believe you must be softer at heart than you’d like.”
She glared at him. Nik shifted subtly in his chair and decided that later, he’d take a moment to examine why her glares made him hard. Right now, though, he’d just have to go with it. “You’re a very impressive woman. I’d like to get to know you better.”
She rolled her eyes and picked up a bunch of grapes. “I’ve heard that before.”
His lips twitched. “I bet.” The array of dishes before her was so massive, it covered his side of the table as well as hers. It was as if she’d made her own little buffet within the buffet. Since he was always starving, courtesy of his unholy metabolism, Nik reached for a slice of cheese as he spoke. “Really, though. I think—”
“Wooooah,” she said, reaching out to slap his hand. “Don’t touch my food, man.”
He gaped. “Are you serious? You have an absolute mountain on this table. You’re never going to eat this.”
“It’s my mountain. And you don’t know what I can eat. If I see your hand on this food again, I’ll stab it.” She raised her fork, apparently serious. “I know where all the important tendons are.”
He must be fucked up, because the sight of Aria waving a fork with violent intent was making him want to smile. He really had no idea why people apparently found her intimidating. She was adorable. And lickable. And funny. And so, so lickable. He dropped the cheese.
“Good boy,” she said, slicing into her eggs. “Now, since you’re taking all fucking day to spit this out, let me speed things up.”
Oh, wonderful. She was going to cut right through his strange brand of social awkwardness. They really were made for each other.
“You’re after a repeat of last night’s avoidance routine,” Aria said. “Right?”
He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
She gave him an arch look. “Keynes told me all about you. Apparently, you really are drowning in genitalia of all sorts. He reckons you’re too nice to say no to people.”
Well, that was arguably true. But… “That’s why you think I’m here?”
She raised her brows, looking genuinely confused. “Is that… not why you’re here?”
“I just…” He paused, considering. He couldn’t run his mouth as usual, not in this situation, not with her. He needed to tread carefully, to find out what she thought. “It wouldn’t be unreasonable for you to assume that I came to find you with a different goal in mind, would it? A more personal goal.”
A look of horror crossed her face. “You’re not asking me out, are you?” she demanded.
“No,” he said quickly. Because he certainly fucking wasn’t, not if the prospect made her look like that.
“Oh.” She rolled her eyes, almost at herself, and smiled slightly. “Sorry. Keynes did tell me that you don’t date.”