Page 56 of Time Stops With You

“Thanks,” he says quietly to me.

Sunny’s husband takes note of that, missing nothing.

As Sunny peruses the menu, she asks politely, “So how do you two know each other?”

“We don’t,” I say sharply.

Cullen frowns.

Sunny’s eyes flick up from the menu. “But didn’t he just say…”

“I mean, we don’t know each other that well.” I take out my bottle of hand sanitizer and squeeze a dollop in my palm. “My apartment and his office are in the same building.”

“Oh.” Sunny bobs her head and then she leans over to her husband. “Babe, do you want to share a cheeseburger? I want that and a milkshake, but I can’t justify all those carbs.”

I finish sanitizing my hands and I’m shocked when Cullen extends his arm, palm upturned.

With a questioning look, I mumble, “What doyouwant?”

“Some sanitizer.”

“I’m one hundred percent sure you have your own.”

He probably has backups strapped to his ankles like the germaphobic version of a classic James Bond.

Despite my reluctance to share, Cullen doesn’t pull his hand back. I scoff and pour out a dollop of sanitizer. He rubs his hands together. His bicep is flexing way closer to me now than they were last night.

“Ooh, but the chilly cheese bowl sounds good too,” Sunny exclaims to her husband.

Cullen slides down the bench. He looks annoyed. “Are you angry with me?”

I inch away from him, but if I wiggle out any further, I’ll hit the floor. “Why do you care?”

“Babe, I really can’t decide,” Sunny whines. “Chilly bowl or cheeseburger?”

“If I offended you, I want to know so I can apologize.”

“We can order both and take the leftovers,” Sunny’s husband says patiently.

I frown at Cullen, lowering my voice to a hush. “There’s nothing to apologize for because I’m not angry.”

“That’s a great idea!” Sunny exclaims. “Nardi, do you know what you want yet?”

I’m too busy scowling at Cullen and trying not to be swept up in his moonlight eyes, so I don’t hear her the first time.

“Nardi?”

I jump like I’ve been caught robbing a bank. Unfortunately, my body wasn’t secure on the bench and I feel myself tilting toward the ground. In a frantic dash to regain balance, I reach for the table and pull myself up just as Cullen wraps an arm around my waist.

His grip is strong and secure. He pulls me into him and I slide across the bench with the ease of butter skidding across a hot skillet. Cullen doesn’t stop until I’m plastered against his side.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his eyes intent on me.

My heart kicks into overdrive. Forget the butter and skillet. The heat rushing over my skin feels like I’m being held right over an open fire.

Self-conscious, I push at Cullen’s chest.

He removes his hand when he realizes he’s still holding me and looks out the window. I glance across the table and catch Sunny’s husband studying us.

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