Page 20 of A Little Broken

It feels like a loaded question, but I answer anyway. “Chocolate.”

“Damn. Figured you for a vanilla girl.”

My mouth twitches. “You have no idea.”

He picks up the chocolate shake but doesn’t set it in front of me. Instead, he brings it to his mouth and licks the top of the open cup with his tongue, gathering some creamy dessert with the tip before it disappears into his mouth, and holy shit, the imagery is enough to make me turn into a puddle or better yet, climb onto the table and spread my legs wide. I haven’t been licked like that in who knows how long.

Seriously, is it hot in here?

If he knows what I’m thinking, he doesn’t comment on it. Climbing into the booth, he sets the chocolate shake back on the tray, not claiming it for himself but not handing it over, either.

“See, but here’s the thing,” he continues, “I like chocolate, too.”

“Then why’d you order vanilla?” I ask.

“Because I thought I’d be a gentleman and let you have dibs, but now that we’re here…”

“Ah, so it’s all a facade, is it? The whole gentleman bit.”

He smirks shamelessly. “Maybe.”

“Should we Rock, Paper, Scissors for it?” I lift my closed fist onto the table in preparation for our game. I shouldn’t. There’s no way he remembers our little interaction. Hell, it feels like a lifetime ago. But I can’t help myself. I’m curious. If I managed to make even the smallest of impressions on him, when it’s clear he made a pretty big one on me.

Staring at my hand resting on the table separating us, he notes, “A girl after my own heart.”

“Seems that way.”

He lifts his closed fist into the air. “On three?”

“Four,” I decide. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.”

Leaning forward, he rests his weight on his elbows and shows me his fist. “Game on, Birthday Girl.”

He’s sexy when he’s competitive. Playful. Confident. And the smirk on this bad boy?

Damn.

Ignoring the tightness in my lower belly, I match his posture, leaving a few inches of space between our foreheads. “Ready?”

“Always.”

“Rock. Paper. Scissors. Shoot,” we say in unison.

I flatten my hand to paper, and he keeps his hand in a fist. Realizing he’s lost, he groans. “Best two out of three?”

“And why would I agree to that?” I ask with a laugh. “I’ve already won.”

He pushes the chocolate shake across the table. “Cutthroat. I like it.”

With a grin, I pick the spoon up and take a big bite, letting the rich cocoa and sweet cream melt against my taste buds. Seriously. Chocolate’s far superior.

“Way to dive right in,” he quips. “Not even gonna eat your dinner first?”

“Not gonna let me revel in my victory?” I counter, dipping the red plastic spoon into the paper cup for another bite.

He watches as I lick the spoon, and something sparks in his eyes. “Seems like you’re reveling in it just fine.”

I laugh around my bite, then set the spoon back into the cup and reach for my burger. “To be fair, I’m pretty sure it isn’t the first time I’ve beaten you at Rock, Paper, Scissors.”

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