Page 167 of The Invite
My stomach rumbles in anticipation of the steak. It’s been so long since I’ve eaten it. I keep the tidbit to myself. He already knows a lot more about me than anybody in this town.
“Can I bring you anything to drink while the food comes?” she asks. “The kitchen is swamped, so it’ll take a bit longer.”
Augustus squeezes my neck in question. “Ness?”
I glance at the drink section in the menu and perk up at one of the options. “I’d like a chocolate milkshake.”
The waitress leaves after noting it down.
“Did you not want anything?”
He takes a sip of the water before him and shakes his head. His hand goes back to toying with my ponytail and those predatory eyes slide to mine. “I wanted to cook you dinner but thought you might enjoy getting fresh air instead of being cooped up inside the house.”
It takes all my willpower not to melt at his thoughtfulness. Clearing my throat, I quip, “So, you only went back to your place to change?”
“Why? Did you miss me while I was gone?”
“No,” I scoff.
“I obviously made the right call judging by the eye fucking you gave me at your doorstep.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I was just admiring your bike.”
“It’s my bike. So by extension, you were fawning over me.”
“Someone thinks too highly of themselves.”
“Just stating a fact.” Dipping his mouth, he taunts, “Admit it, I turn you on. Or you’ll prove you really are a chickenshit.”
I twist, match his stare, and arch a brow. “Would a chickenshit cut you with a knife?”
“I guess not.” He leans back with a smirk.
Before he can continue pushing my buttons, I switch the topic. “Where are we going next? You mentioned this is a pit stop.”
“You’ll see when we get there.”
“What’s with the secrecy?”
He leans forward, resting his thick forearms on the table. “I’ll share if you tell me something personal about you.”
“You already know enough.”
“I told you nothing short of everything will be enough.”
“I also told you that it’s impossible.”
“Quite the opposite, Nessa.” He stares intensely. “You’re the only one standing in the way.”
“This isn’t a date.” Before he can retort, I add, “Nor do I want to turn it into one. If that was your intention, you may as well take me home after we eat.”
I expect him to back off but his intrigue deepens right before my eyes, much like an eagle homing in on its prey. I’m once again saved by the waitress, who drops off the milkshake with two straws. Curling my fingers around the glass, I raise it to my mouth and take a sip. The coldness of the drink is a welcoming sensation to calm my flared nerves.
When I set it down after finishing halfway, Augustus snatches it to have a taste.
He drinks it from the same straw, causing me to cross my legs. If he’s obsessed with my breasts, then I’m equally obsessed with his mouth.
There’s no sign of the brooding yet flirtatious man when he meets my gaze. I’m both disappointed and relieved he’s given up on opening me up, until he states in a hard voice, “It’s time we talk about Anonymous.”
