“A wizard reference this early? You must’ve slept well last night,” I muse. I hold out my hand, curling my fingers toward me in a soft beckon.
She pushes off the doorframe and saunters toward me, the little smirk never leaving her lips. “Actually, I did. Thank you for letting me crash here. I appreciate it.”
She slips her hand in mine, and I apply a little pressure, gently pulling her in toward me. She sinks into the cushion next to me, and I toss my arm over her shoulders. After a moment, she leans back and settles against me.
“God, this view is incredible,” she says, her voice carrying a note of awe.
She rolls her head along my arm to look at me. It’s such an innocent gesture. Casual enough that she can trick herself into thinking it’s meaningless. But it’s intimate too.
I smile, a real one that reaches my eyes. “It’s better with you here.” My voice is rough, betraying the emotions simmering beneath the surface.
Her gaze zeroes in on my bicep, and I know the moment she spots the tattoo—her tattoo. I stifle the giddy anticipation that fizzes inside of me like candy. Her brows crash together as she continues to look.
“Hey, Jasper?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“What’s this tattoo of?” she whispers.
I reach over and tap the design. “Don’t you recognize it?”
She flicks her gaze to me, arching a brow. “Should I?”
I dip my head so my lips ghost over her forehead. “Considering it’s your bite, yeah, baby, I think you should.”
Her eyes widen, a hint of disbelief flickering across her face. “My bite?” She reaches out tentatively, her fingertips grazing the inked skin. The touch sends a shiver down my spine.
“Don’t tell me you forgot, baby,” I murmur, my voice low.
She traces the outline of the tattoo, each stroke igniting sparks beneath my skin. “I can’t believe you actually got it tattooed on you. I don’t know if anyone told you yet, but that shit’s permanent.”
A low laugh tugs out of me. “Yeah, baby. I know.”
A soft blush creeps up her neck as shakes her head and withdraws her fingertips. “Thank you for the matcha. This tastes like one from a real coffee shop, not the gritty stuff I make at home.”
“I have a matcha machine.” I zero in on the way her lips wrap around the straw.
Her brows rise. “I didn’t know you liked matcha that much.”
I drag my gaze up to look her in the eye. “I don’t.”
She breaks first, her gaze darting to the lake, then back to me. “I should get going. There are a few things I need to work on at the bakery. And my car is still at the clubhouse.”
The thought of her leaving, of stepping back into the world and the dangers that lurk there, tightens something in my chest. I reach out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Why don’t you stay a little longer?”
The vulnerability in her eyes tugs at something deep inside me. She clears her throat. “That’s really nice of you to offer, but I feel like I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’m sure you have to get to work too.”
“Nah, no work today,” I answer easily.
She lowers her head, her eyes narrowing on me. “You always work on Tuesdays.”
My crooked grin hitches into a smirk. “You checkin’ up on me, baby?”
She tilts her head straight, flicks her hair over her shoulder, and looks out at the lake. Her nose couldn’t get any higher. “Puh-lease. As your fake girlfriend, I had to do a little homework. Don’t read into it.”
I shouldn’t want to kiss her as bad as I do right now. It’s some kind of fucked-up Pavlovian response to her sass, I’m sure of it.
I toy with the ends of her hair, tugging gently. “Spend the day with me, baby.”