As much as I’d like to suck that frown off her face, I want to see that other look. The one where she fucks me with her eyes. “Never Have I Ever. Someone says something like, never have I ever slept with a teacher, but if you have, as was the case with Callum, you do a shot. It’s their little ‘get to know you’ game. With enough booze, it’s fun.”
Her frown deepens. Maybe Ginger has some secret past she doesn’t want revealed. With a breath, her brow softens. Her gaze lands back on the bagel. She scrapes her teeth over her bottom lip, looking from me to the food I made her.
I nod to her plate. “You’re not one of those vegan, no-gluten chicks, are you?”
“God, no.” She shakes her head. “It’s just…did you happen to have leftovers, or did you make this for me?”
Man, she’s cute when she’s nervous, those freckles bright against her pale skin. She probably thinks I’ve been stalking her. I could tell her I made too much, ease her mind, but there’s no point lying. Ever since the accident, I do my best to say things as they are. Treat each day like it’s my last. I know all too well how short life can be. “I made it for you,” I say.
She scans the kitchen, for what I have no idea. A group of three is at the large map of New Zealand tacked on the wall, and a guy’s at the orange counter snacking on toast and peanut butter.
She chews on her cheek. “How’d you know I was here? And how’d you know I’d be hungry?”
Bruno and Callum have the girls laughing, telling stories about school pranks, and I pop the last bite of bagel into my mouth. That’s when that look of hers returns. Her eyes glaze, her lips plump, and she arches her back. She looks ready to devour me. Like she’s starved for sex. Either she’s longing for something she’s never had, or she’s a nymphomaniac on the loose.
I’m hoping for the latter.
She’s still staring at my neck, burning a trail down my skin, and without warning, my dick strains against my jeans. What the hell is wrong with me? Sure, it’s been a while, but I’ve jacked off plenty. So why does it feel like I’m the Hoover Dam about to explode? Thank God I’m sitting at the table.
Her gaze snaps down to her plate, and I adjust myself. I wipe my hands on a piece of paper towel until the blood pumping south returns to my brain. I plant my elbows on the table. “It’s simple, really. As soon as I got here, I dumped my stuff so I could buy some food. You arrived as I was walking down the street. Figured you’d do that girl thing, you know? Shower, unpack, moisturize…put on a change of clothes.” I lean to the side and glance below the table. At her jeans and the underwear she’s probably wearing. “Must feel nice.”
She scowls and crosses her legs.
“Anyway, I assumed you’d want to eat when you were done. Hence the gourmet meal you haven’t touched.”
With an audible sigh she says, “Thanks,” and removes her hands from below her thighs.
As she picks up the bagel, I add, “Must be pretty handy having a family friend as a taxi driver.”
“Shoot,” she mutters and tucks her elbows to her sides. “I mean, what did you expect? Strange guy, strange city, unusual state of undress.” She gestures to her crossed legs with her head. “Do you blame me for lying?”
Unusual state of undress. Now my mind’s back on her fall, and that smooth ass propped up in the air. Fucking hell. Blood rushes straight back to my dick, and I almost groan. “No, Nina. I do not.” I lick my lips, knowing her attention is focused there. “You should eat already.”
Closing her eyes, she takes a bite, and I know how good it tastes. The tomato sauce, the cheese, and the burnt taste of the bread’s charred edges. Especially after a day of no food.
A delicious “Mmmmm,” passes her lips as she slouches in her seat.
“Kind of makes you fancy being a piece of bread,” says a glassy-eyed Callum beside me.
So absorbed in Ginger, I practically blocked out the group. Bruno, the class clown, has the girls in stitches, while Callum rests on his elbows to watch Nina eat.
I grip my empty plate. “Yeah, whatever. Looks like another round’s about to