Page 12 of Silent Girl

“Nothing is better than an orgasm, sweetheart—and if you think food can beat it, then, well, I’m sorry but you clearly haven’t experienced a real orgasm.”

My mouth drops open. “I’ve had plenty of orgasms, not that it’s any of your business,” I tell him.

“No, you haven’t,” he says, sounding so sure of himself.Cocky.“I can help you out with that though.”

Why does his voice go deeper whenever he suggests I jump into bed with him?

“Pass.” I smile while also squeezing my thighs together, trying to ebb off the need this man is creating in me.

“It’s an open offer?” He shrugs, like offering sex is nothing more than offering something as simple as a cup of coffee.

The waitress comes up to the table. Her eyes take their time checking out Liam, and I mean she takes inevery single inchof him. Maybe I could get over my fear of blood and stab her in those eyes?

I clear my throat. It’s not because I’m jealous. That’d be ludicrous. No, I want her attention because I’m hungry and would like to place my order sometime this century, not when she’s done eye-fucking the man sitting across from me. The same man who either doesn’t notice the attention he’s getting or is choosing not to as he studies the menu.

“What will it be?” the waitress asks in a snappy tone, her annoyance obvious.

Well, too bad, love.I’m hungry. You can eye-fuck the asshole as much as you want, after I get my food.

“I’ll have the double beef and bacon burger, side of fries and onion rings, and a strawberry shake,” I tell her.

She writes my order down on her pad before turning to face Liam. “And for you?” she sings in a much more pleasant tone.

“I’ll have the same, thanks,” he says, handing the woman his menu along with a full-dimpled smile.

“It’ll be r-right out,” she stutters and grabs the menus before sauntering off.

“Can you not?” I ask, rolling my eyes.

“What’d I do?”

“The charm, making her think she has a chance with you. It’s cruel,” I tell him.

“How do you know she doesn’t have a chance? And I can’t help it if I’m naturally charming.”

“I’m sorry… I guess I didn’t know horny, middle-aged women were your type. But, by all means, don’t let me stop you.” I wave a hand in the direction of where the waitress walked off.

“Meh, I prefer horny, petite brunettes,” he says. I’m going to need to see an optometrist with how much eye-rolling I’m doing around this guy. It’s becoming a problem. “Also, I thought it was your job to cock-block me.”

“My job is to make sure you don’t get yourself into any more trouble and to keep you out of the press as much as I can.”

“So, cock-blocking wasn’t in the job description then?”

“No, I took initiative and added that task all on my own.” I smirk.

“You’re a real go-getter, going above and beyond for the cause, right?” he asks.

“Exactly.” I slide out of the booth and stand. “I’ll be back.” I make a dash for the bathroom. I don’t want to sit here and continue to share small talk with him.

What the hell was I thinking? I should have asked my father to clarify what this assignment actually entailed. Am I really meant to be his shadow? Just follow him around all day and night?

The moment I enter the bathroom, I turn on the faucet and wet my hands. I splash the cold water on my neck and my elbows. I read somewhere that water helps you relax. I think it’s bullshit, because right now I’m not relaxed. I’m at my comfort spot, about to eat my favorite food. I should be as relaxed as they come. But, no, I’m on pins and needles because I’ve turned into a damn hussy and all I can think about is jumping the bones—or boner—of the guy sitting across from me.

Liam fucking King. Argh… why? What did I do in a previous life to have to endure this kind of torture?

I reach into my pocket, looking for my phone, but it’s not there. I must have left it on the table. Great, now I can’t even hide out in here and scroll on social media to pass the time until my food is cooked.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I straighten my shoulders, tuck back the flyaway hairs, and smooth out my clothes. “You are Aliyah Monroe. You can handle this. This man does not affect you in the slightest,” I say to myself before walking out of the bathroom.

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