“Holy shit,” I breathe, staring at the man who could be a model on any runway in…well, anywhere. My eyes sweep over his broad shoulders, his chiseled face, his long hair that’s swept back behind his ears. God, crap, but he could be on the cover of a damn romance novel. Andre pulls me out of my d
“Hi,” I say casually, placing both of my hands gently on the bar and leaning forward just a little, keeping my voice soft, inviting him to lean in to listen. “Any questions about the menu?” He blinks at me for a moment and then looks around him. “Um, I don’t think I…got a menu.” Inwardly I curse
Christian completely ignores me as I prep his drink, taking my time and using every second of it to regain my composure. I think – or maybe just hope – that none of my shock at seeing Christian here showed on my side. That would be bad for me for sure also bad for Christian. No one – especially Edwa
My eyes move back to Christian, noting the possessive tone of his voice, letting me know that he’s not only claiming Edward’s drinks but my involvement with him too. Christian’s message couldn’t be clearer – even though he can’t sit down now without awkwardly admitting that he’s very, very clearly t
The money and the card held tight in my hand, I make my way over to my bodyguard, deciding to get the teasing over with sooner rather than later. There’s no avoiding it, after all. “Wowwww, how much did you get?” Frankie asks, grinning deviously and leaning over the bar, trying to peek into my han
“Frank!” I gasp, spinning to look after him as he strides down the hall. But he just waves to me over his shoulder, letting me know that this is my problem and mine alone. I glance around, looking for Nico, Violetta – anyone. But damn it, I’m alone with my best friend. I sigh, turning back to
Her eyes still on Christian’s hand, Violetta clears her throat. Slowly, Christian’s fingers drop to the counter top. I don’t really dare to breathe because…well, because while we weren’t doing anything precisely bad… It wasn’t good, was it? If I caught my boyfriend doing that, we’d be having o
Frankie, adorably, just wrinkles his nose and I have to suppress a laugh because my friend, the trained killer, he’s like a little bunny rabbit right now. When he goes still I do it again. This time he raises his hand and brushes at his nose. I laugh, not louder than a whisper, and tap him again.