Page 19 of Stolen Dreams

She rolls her eyes. “The office assistants are probably glued to their phones. None of them are listening to us.”

“Either way…”

“Kaya, you cannot tell me this man doesn’t dosomethingto your… nether region.”

A flush of heat crawls up my neck and spreads across my cheeks as I widen my eyes and mouth,“Really?”

“Could’ve said worse,” she mutters and shrugs.

If we weren’t at work, I would’ve let the comments go without a word. Still would’ve gotten hot watching the video. Stillwould’ve been self-conscious over the… sensations it elicited. But I would have otherwise left it alone.

I am far from a prude. Just prefer to keep certain thoughts to myself. Like the countless obscene thoughts that surfaced as the man-made dessert magic. The way my mouth watered… and not just for the food.

Am I ashamed? No, just private when it comes to partners, love, sex, and the emotions they come with.

Needing a subject change, I search for a safe topic. Her California trip comes to mind, but I quickly shut it down. It’d steer us back into Kaya-needs-a-man territory. Hmm.

“I mean, how can you look away?” Clarissa shoves her phone closer to my face as the guy practically molests a chicken with oil and herbs.

“Have you gone swimsuit shopping for your trip?” I blurt out, hoping the conversation will shift.

She bites her lower lip. “He can slather me in oil and herbs then lick me clean.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Rissa…” I drag her name out like a pouty child.

She lifts her gaze and pins me with mischievous, sparkling eyes.

Oh, no.

“I know the perfect way to celebrate the end of the school year,” she declares, voice a little too chipper.

I swallow past the unfettered energy climbing up in my throat. “Oh yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.” Her devilish smile from earlier makes a reappearance. “Dinner and drinks at Calhoun’s Bistro.”

Relief washes over me as my shoulders relax and I exhale the breath I was holding. “Nice as that sounds, they’re booked months in advance.”

Her wicked smile grows impossibly wider. “There are exceptions forsomepeople.”

She’s talking about the fact that I’m Seven—a status I don’t care to use—and can get a table whenever I want. All I have to do is make a call and flaunt said title.

I shake my head. “Let’s go to Bay Chowder House or Gigi’s. It’ll be less crowded.”

She props a hand on her hip. “Good as those are, I can go anytime. Can’t say the same about Calhoun’s Bistro.”

No matter how much I push back, Clarissa will hold her ground. When she wants something, she is a force of nature.

I love and hate this side of her.

Minutes of silence pass before she sets her phone down, claps her hands together in prayer beneath her chin, and pushes out her bottom lip. “Please, Kaya. I’ll even make the reservations.”

I close my eyes, subtly shake my head, and take a deep breath. “Have I told you lately how pushy you are?”

“No.” Her tone is lighter, buoyant. As if sheknowsI’ll say yes.

Opening my eyes, I narrow my gaze on her. “Well, you are.”

“But you still love me,” she singsongs.

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