77. The One Where I Imagine Him

"Bookworm, you appear off." I looked up from the dinner placed in front of me. "You've your favorite seafood and yet you're not eating." Facing his concerned face, I shook my head and curled my hand on the handle of a stick from the griller but he caught my hand, stopping my actions. "It's extra grilled. I will order a new set."

Nodding, I crossed my legs but I was interrupted by a brush of foot on my ankle, jerking me out of the dilemma I was living in. Inching my gaze to him, I found him engaged with grilling his stick of prawns but a small smile was present on his face.

That jerk.

The tip of his shoe inched upper, running through my calf and I hitched my breath and curled my hands to control the gasp begging to be left out. As if my silence was enough, he rubbed it on my calf and engaged his eyes to mine.

"Baby, food." He smirked, his foot rubbing my bare skin.

"Kabir," I gasped. "What are you doing?"

"Do want me to stop?" No. "Words, Alina. I need them. Silence is a no too."

I bit