Page 45 of Devanté
CHAPTER TWELVE
I could think of worse things to do than having breakfast with Devanté on the patio at The Belvedere. There weren’t many people there for breakfast and none out on the patio with Devanté and me.
My stupid heart kept speeding up every time I thought about the Ring Pop tucked away in my purse. When I saw it, salty-sweet memories crashed into me wave after wave. Each hit was warm and cool and stained with sunshine and laughter. I missed the way we used to be. Being around him again made me realize that.
If I let myself be free around him, our banter would snap back into place like it never left. I’d also remember how much I wanted him though, and that was a memory I wanted to stay lost at sea.
I stole a glance at him from beneath lowered lashes. He was busy studying the menu, so I was able to sneak in a few lingering peeks. I took leisurely sips of his onyx skin traveling from his face to his chest. The sky blue shirt he had on formed to his body, outlining his chiseled pectoral muscles.
The things I would do to that man.
I let my mind run free for a fleeting moment. Imagining the way his lips would feel on mine now that we were grown. I played out the ways I would taste him from his lips to his neck, down to his chest, and then dropping between his strong legs. I would lick Devanté from the base to the crown of his dick then back again.
No.
Stop it, Blake. He was your friend. Your best friend. Now, he’s your client. You can’t have thoughts like that.
“So, what are you getting?” I said, trying to speak over the piping hot lustful thoughts stewing in my mind.
He shifted his tall, muscular body in the chair. That man’s skin was perfect. He must have drunk a glass of halos every morning to look like that. Was he shooting today or was this just his look?
“I’m thinking about the croissant and fruit. What about you?” He asked.
“Fruit and scrambled eggs sound good.”
“What? No pancakes?” His smile was blinding.
“Not anymore. Pancakes stick to my thighs.” I rubbed a hand over my legs and Devanté’s eyes fell to the glass table. I realized he could see me.
“So, double the pancakes then.”
“You remember how I used to look,” I scoffed.
“Yeah, I do.” He reached across the table and brushed his fingertips along my inner wrist. Something so slight made my body hum. “You were beautiful then and you’re beautiful now.”
My brain was a mess of static and surprise.
“Hello, I’ll be your server today. Can I get you two started on something to drink?”
Thank god for distractions. I shook my head, jostling Devanté’s words loose. They were stuck to the walls of my mind like candy.
“I’ll have a mimosa,” I said. I craved the warm and relaxed feeling the champagne would give me.
“I’ll have water with lemon, thanks,” Devanté smiled at the server. She was short and thin with green eyes that jumped to life when she saw his face.
“No problem, Mr. Morgan.” She chirped, bouncing up on her toes.
“Call me, Devanté,” he said, still brandishing that smile. He shouldn’t have been allowed to have that smile with skin so poetically dark and eyes so summertime bright.
“Okay…Devanté,” she giggled, biting her bottom lip. “You sure I can’t get you a mimosa too? They’re amazing.”
“Nah, I don’t drink. Thank you though.” She nodded then backed away instead of turning like a normal human being. It was that hard to tear your eyes away from Devanté Morgan. I knew firsthand because I was still looking at him.
I couldn’t stop picking out the ways he’d grown and matured over time. Eight years had been good to him. I wondered how I wore my years. Hopefully, I wore them regally because that’s how I felt.
“Thank you for having breakfast with me, Blake.” He cocked up a thick dark brow and said, “Or do I still have to call you Miss Remington?”
“I guess since we’re not working right now, Blake is fine.”
