Page 19 of Can't Take My Eyes Off You

He shakes his head, a wide smile topped with a mustache with curls at the ends. ‘Every time I see her, she’s prettier.’

‘You’re violating rule number two: no flirting.’

‘But I’m following rule number one: calling you pretty.’

I shake my head. Do I love hearing him call me pretty? Yes. But my heart grasps on to things like that like a lifeline, so I try to limit it.

‘You’re not even a little happy to see me? It’s been months, Berx.’

Of course I am. That’s the problem. I adore seeing him. Right now, I’m desperately stopping myself from throwing myself at him and doing him on this counter. I want to confess my undying love for him. I want to beg him to choose me over the show. But I can’t, and not only because it seems desperate. He made his choice and he’s locked in. No use fighting it.

I grab the tabloid from where Olivia left it, slapping it on the counter between us.

‘All the tabloids,’ I say. ‘Your face is on them. The women who just left had bought half a dozen magazines with articles about you. They’re dreaming of doing you.’

‘Really?’ he asks, a smile growing until I lower my chin. ‘I’m kidding.’ The way he blows out a breath as he leans on the counter with his elbows, flipping to the article, says he hadn’t seen this yet. He reads it silently, making awkward faces at the same spots I did. Finally, he stands. ‘I mean, we kind of knew it might be coming, but I get it. It’s weird for me too. At least they didn’t mention you. Must mean we aren’t doing a terrible job at keeping our previous relationship under wraps and you out of the spotlight.’

‘Yep. Now I’m just your dirty little secret. Your side ho who says yes to ridiculous relapse amendments like “holidays are freebies” becausewemake the rules. I’m pretty sure we’re the only Americans who celebrated Finland’s Independence Day.’

Yes, there’s one intimate moment I didn’t mention. It’s like we can’t count. His job has become finding ways to throw in freebies and I’ve gotten pretty good at saying no, but the Finland freebie was too good to say no to.

‘Hey.’ He points at me seriously before finally cracking a smile. ‘That was the best Finnish holiday we’ve ever had.’

A grin spreads across my face. ‘See, I can’t resist your arrogant charm.’

‘I amnotarrogant,’ he argues with a laugh.

‘Yet,’ I say. ‘I’ve no doubt after two years of this’ – I tap the photo on the front of the tabloid – ‘you’ll get there.’

‘Berx…’ He says my name gently, lovingly, breaking all the rules with his tone alone and jabbing at my heart like a fire poker stoking a wood stove. Heat radiates through me as he steps around the counter, resting his hand on the small of my back and dropping his head onto mine. ‘I might have lied to get here but losing you was never in my plans, remember? I’m still yours. Just not “out loud”.’

‘Why, uh…’ I step away from him like I’ve got something to do at the other end of the counter. ‘Did you only come by to tell me I’m pretty?’

‘No… I know you’ve turned into a total hermit, and possible workaholic, and rarely take a lunch.’

My gaze shoots right to Olivia, who’s pretending to be busy at her counter, looking away from me quickly. They still talk so he’s still got insider info because we share a circle of friends.

‘Actually, I was just planning to go to lunch.’

‘Perfect timing then, I came to take you.’

My head wanders to the dirty version of ‘take you’ and I’m suddenly in the middle of a daydream of us at a restaurant, somehow adding a bathroom freebie to our loose list of rules. An afternoon delight will only make things worse.

‘Rule number three:nodating.’

‘Friends have lunch. Back me up, Liv,’ he hollers her way.

She nods. ‘Sorry, but he’s right. Friends do have lunch. We had lunch yesterday.’

I glare. ‘Fine. We can have lunch but somewhere quiet,awayfrom the cameras, and we are only allowed to eat. No second locations. No disappearing to the bathroom together. Andnofreebies. Got it?’

He lifts a single hand. ‘Hand to God, Berx. I just want to catch up face to face.’

Fifteen minutes later and we’re seated in a tiny Italian restaurant halfway across the city, sitting at a table near the back, far from any windows. Will doesn’t waste a second; there’s food in front of him and he has an appetite. I, on the other hand, am struggling to not be reminded of old times and realizing it’s easier to fake when we only talk via phone. Now I’m stuck here in awkward-ville.

‘How’s things?’ Will asks.

‘We talk every day. You already know how things are.’

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