Page 25 of I Choose You

For the first time since I arrived at work this morning, I’m able to take a breather. “You’re the best. Have I ever mentioned that?”

I imagine a smirk playing on those appealing pink lips of hers. Instead, they’re flat and expressionless, and I can’t fucking stand it.

“Got you the club sandwich combo with the soup of the day.”

“What’s the soup of the day?”

She lifts her spoon when I look back at her. “Cheesy potato.”

“They must have known you were coming,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood. If there’s one food she can’t stand, it’s bacon. I’m taken aback that she risked ordering something that included it as an ingredient.

“The best in a while. I asked for no bacon, and they actually listened.” She lights up at this but immediately dulls when I pop the paper wrapper off my straw.

“How courteous of them.”

She takes another spoonful of soup and presses the button on the side of her phone. The screen brightens for her to check the time, making me wish I got here sooner than I did. We’ll have just enough time to eat before needing to get back to work. Hardly the lunch I had in mind. I was looking forward to the full hour we initially planned.

A frown traces my lips. Squeezing the juice from the lemon into my water, I ball the paper from the straw and roll it over the table. I dunk my straw into my water and swirl it in circles. “How long do I get you for?”

She avoids my eye and focuses on her food. “Twenty-six minutes.”

I suspect her lack of conversation comes from the same disappointment that consumes me. It’s hardly enough time to grab a meaningful lunch. “Kenz,” I say, “I really did try to get here earlier. I would have loved to get the full hour with you.” I exhale and consider kicking my chair out from under me to get to her on the other side of the table. “Can you look at me?”

The color of her irises is more on the brown side and darkens with the setback of me being late. “I’m bummed you couldn’t get here sooner.”

I should have tried harder to get out of the office. I scrub a hand over my face and heave a heavy sigh. My teeth bite into my cheek, and apologies flood my head. “I am, too.” In an effort to change the mood, I say, “It’s not a lot of time, but it’s something.” Indifference takes root across her face. “Okay,” I clear my throat in preparation to sweeten her up. “How about I take over brunch duty until I leave? My weekends and yours.”

Brunch was the last time we spent a substantial amount of time together. When that waffle sausage stick had us falling back, I pulled her body to mine to break the fall. What I didn’t expect was for her leg to move directly over my groin or to get lost in that hazy gaze of hers. It’s a day I wouldn’t be able to forget if I tried. It’s the closest I’ve gotten to giving in and testing how strong our friendship is.

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t stir my dick to life. It awakened a hunger in me like no other. When she ran off to the bathroom, I stuck my head in the freezer to encourage the blood that rushed south to return north. Much to my dismay, it didn’t work. I sat through brunch with inappropriate thoughts of Mackenzie. Her legs spread and straddling me. Gripping her hips and dragging her over the tent in my pajama pants.

She tilts her head in thought as she continues eating, then squints one last time before saying, “Deal, but if you’re late for lunch again, I’m not going to be as easy to bargain with.”

I reach an open hand across the table, then raise my brows. “Shake on it, Jones. We made a deal.”

She looks upward and purses her lips in fake annoyance. “Are you going to make me spit in my palm, too?”

“We could,” I say, looking around the restaurant, “but I don’t think the staff here would appreciate that.” Time with her will never be enough. Despondency ravages me at how fast twenty-six minutes will tick by.

“We can always go back to my initial offer of playing hooky. Then we’ll have way more than twenty some minutes to hang out.” Her brows jump, and she smirks. I’m tempted to lean across the table and pull her face to mine with how she cheers up at the idea of a getaway. In a flash, she’s gone from somber to hopeful, and I don’t know whether to pat myself on the back or give myself an ass whooping for causing that initial disappointment to flitter through her head.

“How did I know that would come back up again?”

Her shoulder lifts. “Probably because you know it’s what we should do. Deep, deep down, you know that it’s the only way we’ll truly be happy.” She finishes her soup, the server sets our food on the table, and we dig in.

“Who said I’m not happy?”

“How can you be? You’re leaving Luke and me to fend for ourselves.” There’s a hint of sadness when she says it, but there’s also amusement.

I pull out the toothpick that holds my club sandwich together. “Good thing you know how to take care of yourself then.”

She hums, moving on. “Do you know how hot it gets in Texas? You hate the heat. If you’re happy now, you won’t be when you’re sweating your ass off all day, every day.”

I take a bite and chew, talking while my mouth is full. “Lucky for me, my office and apartment will have central air.”

“Grueling summer heat. Warm winters. I’m going to have to send you snow so you can enjoy your favorite season of the year, but I’m warning you.” She wraps her mouth over the bread of her club to take a bite. I follow the movement inconspicuously. “It won’t be the same as seeing it in person.”

I wash a bite of food down with my water. “You better follow through with that promise. I expect snow every winter. First snowfall and last so we can be sure I’m enjoying it to the full extent.”

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