Page 562 of Rock Me All Night
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The waitress gigglesas she introduces herself. I barely manage to fight a glare. Who the hell does she think she is looking at Pete like she knows him?
I scoot my chair closer to his and slide my arm around his waist. This does nothing to wipe the flirty look off her face. No, apparently, it doesn't matter that he's my boyfriend.
Fake boyfriend, but she doesn't know that.
I order my vegetable omelet and latte through clenched teeth. She keeps her eyes on Pete the entire time, punctuating her questions with giggles.
When she goes on to her next table, he chuckles.
His lips curl into a smile. "You're jealous."
"No." Maybe. Absolutely. "A little."
"Didn't take much."
His smile goes ear to ear. He's enjoying teasing me. I don't take the bait. But I do scoot a little closer. In case any other woman has designs on taking him home.
I look at him. "How does this work, being seen?"
"Basically this. We'll spend the day hitting a few popular spots. Should get someone snapping pics—a fan or a paparazzi. Something will make its way to a gossip blog. Just have to give it time."
"People really take pictures of you eating brunch?"
He leans in closer. "Yeah. Most people are too shy to say hi. But they like having that storyonce I saw this b-list celebrity at breakfast. Picture helps sell it."
"Seeing a guy at breakfast is a pretty shitty story."
His lips curl into a smile. "What about, saw him causing a scene, making out with his girlfriend at breakfast?"
"Better."
He cocks a brow. "Saw him fingering his girlfriend under the table at breakfast?"
I swallow hard so I won't screamyes, right now."You're going to get me into trouble."
He nods and motionscome here.
I lean closer. Until I can smell his breath. A hint of coffee. And spearmint.
He presses his lips against mine.
Mmm. He tastes good. My lips part to make way for his tongue. Is this real or pretend? I don't know. I only know how much I like his lips on mine.
My hands slide into his hair. My hips shift, begging me to climb into his lap. Damn, I want to say yes.
We're in plain view of anyone who walks by.
His eyes bore into mine when he pulls back. His voice is clear and confident. "You want me to do it."
"Isn't that bad for your nice, blond girlfriend image?"
"Probably. Still do it if you ask."
"That's not a good idea." I take a long sip of my water then look back to him. "I still can't believe you go to brunch."
"Cause brunch is for girls? Expect better from you. That kinda thinking is retrograde." He shakes his head with mock outrage.
