Page 19 of Beneath the Surface

“We’re just…” She twists around when the bell dings over the front door. Alex ducks to walk through the entry, a book in his hand, his eyes scanning the restaurant before going to sit in the corner booth.

“He know you’re about to leave for the day?” I ask.

She sighs. “Probably just waiting on me to finish. I’ll be back.”

“Have fun.” I wave her off, ignoring the way my insides twist as she walks over to him.

He strips off his leather and lays it in the booth next to him, setting his book on the table. He smirks as Annabelle approaches, but when she speaks he shakes his head. Her posture droops the tiniest bit as she turns and walks back over.

“Hey, girl. I’m gonna head out, you good here?”

I glance around at the empty booths. “Yep. Does he need food?”

She presses her lips together in a close-lipped smile. “Guess so. He isn’t here for me, that’s for sure.”

I scrunch up my nose.

“It’s fine.” She waves her hand in the air. “Like I said, it’s not like we’re in a relationship. Just a good time. It’s for the best anyway to keep it casual. He doesn’t even live here.”

I glance back at him, my heart jumping when our eyes meet. “Wheredoeshe live?”

“I’ve got no idea.”

My eyes swing to hers. “You guys don’t talk?”

She smirks. “He isn’t really thetalkingtype.”

My chest tightens, and I force a grin, even though I disagree. When he’s around me, he never shuts the hell up.

She smiles. “Enjoy your shift. Hope you make a million dollars. Johnny’s a bitch today, so try not to piss him off.”

Nodding, I watch as she ducks down behind the host podium and grabs her purse before walking out the front door. My eyes slide back to the corner booth. Sighing, I stand, brushing off my apron and making my way toward his table, an annoying buzz simmering deep in my gut.

“Back again?” I ask.

He smirks, running his hand through his wind-tousled hair. “Did you miss me?”

“Like a hole in the head.”

He hums as he stares, the silence wrapping around me until I grow heated under his gaze.

My fingers scratch at the inside of my wrist. “You hungry?”

He nods. “You definitely missed me.”

My stomach flips. “I don’t evenknowyou. Are you hungry or not?”

“Not yet. But I have some stuff to do so I’ll probably want something in a bit.”

My brow raises. “Stuff?”

“Yeah… work stuff.” He shifts in the booth.

I peer down at his book. “And what is it you do for work again?”

“I’m an independent contractor.”

“Hmm…” I rest my hip against the side of the booth. “And what do you ‘contract?’”

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