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“No funny business on the plane or something stupid. I’m not afraid to embarrass you.”
My pants strain against my lengthened dick at how she purses her lips and quirks her eyebrow. The idea of doing something dirty to her on my territory makes it hard to focus on her rules.
I sit back into the booth, my arms over my chest as she lays down the law. Fighting a smile, I watch as the girl I haven’t been able to get off my mind for the last two years rattles off a laundry list of rules she thinks will keep me away.
She doesn’t realize it, but in this moment, she’s just like the girl I remember, and seeing her for the first time since the tour started does more to me than she’ll ever know.
“Is that all?” I ask when she takes a breath, eager to see how much steam she can let out at once.
“I need to practice at least three times a week. It would be best if you can find a studio that will let me come in after hours, but rooms in a gym would also work, as long as there are mirrors.”
“Not a problem.”
“Dates won’t be necessary. If I need a way out, I’ll text you, and we’ll figure out a plan. Excess time with you isn’t something I’m interested in.”
Fia picks at the polish on her nails, the rims of them red and raw. Worry, or something else I can’t put my finger on, waft off her in palpable waves.
“Is that your way of asking for my number?” I continue to tease. No one’s ever kept me on my toes like her.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“You should know by now that’s what I do best.”
Before she can further her pointless rules, our food arrives. I do everything I can to stifle a moan, but it’s no use.
Damn, this smells so good.
Without a second glance, I place my napkin in my lap and dig into the juicy meal. The delicious burger is everything I need at this moment. I care a lot about food; it’s my favorite hobby, but nothing will compare to a greasy diner burger.
Plus, I train hard enough to deserve a reward.
Silence sits with us. Both of us munch at the glorified junk food, basking in the sounds of music and slurred speech around us.
In front of me, Fia places her barely half-eaten burger on her plate and pushes it aside, the strawberry milkshake she ordered sliding in its place.
“Are you not hungry?” I mumble through the bite I just took.
A hamster could’ve eaten more.
“I ate?” She grimaces, annoyance returning at my attention to every detail about her.
“Barely.”
“I’ll pay for it if you’re so worried about how much I ate.”
I narrow my gaze. “Don’t insult me.”
The straw of her milkshake dimples as she sucks it down, and I have to avert my eyes.
“Worry about yourself.”
Her defiance strengthens, but I don’t back down.
“Take two more bites,” I order her, no humor in my voice as I remember how her stomach growled on the plane.
“I’m not five,” she bites back.
“You’re right. A five-year-old would’ve actually eaten their food. We’re not leaving until you take two more bites.”
