Page 39 of Caught Stealing

Her whole body relaxes and she links her arm with mine. “Sure, I’d like that.”

Koa smirks and nods toward me. I know what he’s saying. She definitely declined sitting with us for reasons that had nothing to do with getting back to her party, and everything with getting me away from them. I lead her to the bar and pull out a stool for her before waving down the bartender.

“What can I get you?” he asks.

“I’ll have a cherry cola, thanks,” Lottie says.

“Make that two.” I drop a ten dollar bill on the bar and settle in beside her while the bartender strains cherries into two cups.

“I like that they make the drinks the old fashioned way. It’s so odd that they serve this kind of food in a pirate-themed pub.” Lottie grabs a napkin and sets it in front of her. I like that she’s more relaxed with just me, and I don’t miss how she leans toward me when we talk.

I hate how easy this could be if not for that one little thing holding us back.

“It’s not usually this busy on a Friday night but we like it.” I position myself to be as open to her as possible and she turns in her chair to do the same. Her knees brush against mine but she doesn’t pull away. She’s close enough for me to get a good whiff of that rose scented perfume that mingles with the faint citrus scent of her shampoo. When she brushes her hair over her shoulder, I spy a few of those freckles that beg to be kissed.

“Actually, I’m ready to head out. I do like it, but it’s getting a bit loud for me. My friend, Destiny, is getting married. Obviously, I guess, but anyway, we work together. She’s taught in the classroom next door to mine for a couple of years now.”

I scratch the scruff on my chin and grimace. “Yeah, I’m not fond of the noise either, but the guys wanted me to join them. Gotta go out for our friends sometimes, right?”

“Mmm, I guess so. I’d almost always rather be in my most comfortable clothes, snuggled up with Ginger, watching a movie in the dark from the comfort of my own sofa. Pizza is optional, ice cream is not.”

I chuckle and slide a half inch closer. She doesn’t retreat. “What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Chocolate. You?”

I offer a reluctant shrug. “I’m a vanilla, I guess. But only because you can pair it with anything. I like to put chocolate covered espresso beans on it.”

“If you gave me espresso of any kind, you’d never catch me. I love coffee, but one cup is all I can take before I get a little too hyper.” Lottie scoots close enough that I need to either move or let her in my bubble to make space. Zero chance I’m moving aside, so I put one foot on the rung of the barstool and the other on the floor, making a little space between my knees for her to tuck hers into. She does so with all the natural ease of a seasoned girlfriend…which she is not. I have to remind myself of that while I fall into her beautiful eyes.

“I might have to test that theory tomorrow. After all, I am Italian. I can make a mean cup of espresso.”

When she laughs, she tosses her hair back again. If she knew how much I want to nibble on that freckle pattern, she’d probably stop exposing her neck to me. “I probably could have used some when we were chasing Goblin and Ginger all over the neighborhood.”

“I’ll put it on ice cream for you, but it’s gotta be vanilla. You’ll thank me, I promise.”

“Espresso over vanilla ice cream? I could be persuaded, honestly. Anything else you want to make for me?” She leans in and puts her hand on my forearm. This does not say she wants to be friends. It doesn’t say she wants to slow down, either. Queue a massive confidence boost paired with the masculine urge to test the waters. Her thumb brushes over my arm a little, too.

What does that say? It says Andrew Rossi is very confused. But I’m gonna go with it because I’m also kind of an idiot and a glutton for punishment. I take a huge chance and raise my hand to brush my thumb over her chin.

“I’ll make you anything you want. Name it, and it’s yours.” It comes out deeper and huskier than I intend, but it gets the point across. She knows this isn’t a friendly gesture, and the ball is officially in her court. We’re in what one could only describe as a half-embrace. I can’t tell if this is a kiss me position or not, so I don’t dare, but it takes all of my strength not to drag her out of this pub and into a dark alley to kiss her into next week.

“Hmm, what other Italian dishes are your specialty?”

I can’t help but snicker. “I spent every summer at my Nonnie’s house in Tuscany before she moved here. I’m fluent in all things comfort food, so you pick and I’ll make it for you.”

“Can you teach me to make pasta?” Childlike excitement sparkles in her eyes.

“Tell you what. Come by my place an hour earlier tomorrow, and I’ll teach you before the drum lesson, then we can have an early dinner before I head to the game.”

Shadows pass over her features and a slight frown dips her lips. I hate that remembering my job does that to her, but if we’re flirting then she can’t forget that’s what I do. She has to choose me and my career.

“I thought you were injured?”

“Still gotta go support the team. I’ll be on the bench all night but I gotta be there.”

“So, how long can I steal from you tomorrow before you have to do that?”

I’m not expecting this question, so I don’t know how to respond. The plan was for her to come over after lunch, but if she wants all of my free time tomorrow, she’s got it. “As much as you want until five.”

---