Reese rounds the couch with two bowls and hands me one before he sits down next to my feet. “Bryce?”
I nod as I take in a mouthful of spaghetti, moaning softly around my fork.
“What about him? Thinks he’s hotter than he is, that’s funny.”
I roll my eyes and chew up my bite. “This is really good. Did you make this?” He smiles and nods as he takes a massive forkful. “Anyway, he doesn’t work with you does he? I mean, if I were to come and see you at work, would he be there?”
He chews up his bite and shakes his head. “No. He’s an investor and I have to deal with his stupid ass occasionally but he doesn’t work in my building. Why, did he do something? If he fucking touched you Dylan…”
Slurping in my noodles I hold up my hand to stop him. “No, he didn’t touch me. Jesus, hulk, relax.” I earn myself a stern look and quickly swallow my bite. “He just came into the shop last week and asked me for my number, which I didn’t give him, and I didn’t like how he looked at me today.”
His eyes narrow and his fork stills in his bowl. “Did he look at you the way I look at you?”
I swallow my bite. “No. You don’t make me feel like I’m being mentally taken advantage of. But he doesn’t work with you so don’t worry about it.”
His eyes quickly flick to mine. “If he comes into your shop again, I want to know about it.”
My eyes widen. Oh for fuck’s sake. “Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?” I place my bowl into my lap. Was he seriously going to injure every man that looked at me twice? Is he always this possessive with his flings?
“No.” He puts his bowl back down. Turning his body towards me, he pulls my feet into his lap and his green stare burns into mine. “I have a huge fucking problem with guys putting their hands on you or making you feel uncomfortable. Don’t ask me not to react to that.”
I lean forward and grab his bowl, seeing one side of his mouth curve up as I get a fork full and hold it out to him.
“You’re not going to fight me on this?” he asks suspiciously before taking the bite off the fork.
“No I get it. I would slap a bitch if she put her hands on you or made you uncomfortable.” His mouthful muffles his laugh as he grabs his bowl from me. “But just so you know, I can handle assholes like Bryce. I just didn’t want to have to run into him when I come see you at work. If I come see you at work.” I grab my bowl and pull another bite into my mouth, wiggling my feet in his lap.
“If? No, I don’t think so. I like when better.”
“You only say that because both times that I’ve been there, you’ve gotten off. It must be nice to have orgasms during your work hours.” I move my foot and rub it against him, feeling him twitch under me.
He arches his brow. “You know damn well that if I could escape my office to make you come behind that bakery counter of yours, I’d do it. And I don’t just like you coming to my work to blow me or get fucked against my door.” I loudly slurp a noodle into my mouth, making him laugh. My ringtone sounds through the condo and I hop up, grabbing it off the kitchen table and exhaling noisily at the name on the screen. Oh great.
“Hey, Mom.” I plop back down on the couch and squeeze the top of my nose. I have an awful feeling that I’m going to regret answering this call right now.
“Sweetheart. How are you? I’ve been meaning to talk to you since the wedding but your father---”
“Her father what, Helen? Her father what?” Oh Lord help me. My parents are notorious for both staying on the line during our conversations. “You know damn well what, Bill. Anyways, dear, are you home because we’re only five minutes away.”
“Mom, I’m fine. The wedding was fine but no, I’m not home right now.” It has been a few weeks since I’ve seen my parents and I did want to catch up with them, but now is not the time. Not while I sit next to Reese.
“Just fine?” he asks beside me, earning himself a right shove. “I’m sure when you were screaming my name it was more than just fine in that moment.”
“I’m going to murder you,” I mumble through clenched teeth as he eyes me up with his wicked grin. I can feel my heart beating rapidly and curse myself for not letting this shit go straight to voicemail.
“Well where are you? We’re in the neighborhood and want to see our only child. Are you at Juls’ house? We know where that is,” Mom says and I hear the sound of traffic through the phone.
“No, Mom, I’m not at Juls’ house. I’m at…” My eyes flick to Reese who is anxiously waiting for my explanation, devouring his spaghetti with a playful grin.