“Clarification, if I can offer one?”

Edith nods. Perspiration beads on my forehead, and I rub my palms down my legs. I need this restaurant. If Edith and Karla are the only two in Brooklyn who are willing to work with me, I need this deal if my dream of owning my own restaurant is going to come true.

“I’m twenty-seven and engaged, and I model for . . . my fiancée, who’s an aspiring photographer.” Shit, where did that come from?

“Really?” Edith asks.

A wide grin splashes across both their faces.

“Yes.”

Don’t divulge too much information. It shows lying.

“You said you were single earlier.” Karla tilts her head to the side.

My heart thunders against my chest. “Technically, I am.” I raise my hand in the air and show no ring.

Please buy the lies spewing out of my mouth.

She slowly nods. “Touché.”

Edith sits up straighter. “We’d love to meet her before we make this whole thing final.”

Final?

My foot starts tapping, and my scream of excitement sits in my lungs.

“Definitely. Name the time and place.”

“We’ll come in one night next week, and we can all go out afterward.”

“Perfect.”

An hour later, after discussing several types of restaurant routes we could go on, I say good-bye to Edith and Karla, my new business partners . . . hopefully.

I pull out my phone, and my fingers tremble while scrolling down to Noodle’s name. My thumb rests over her name, but I can’t click it. This is something we should discuss face-to-face.

I wish that empty feeling of despair inside of me would go the hell away.

This will be easy. She’ll meet them, I’ll get the restaurant, and then we’ll break up.

Easy.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Amelia

Davis and I walk the two blocks to the train, hand in hand, and I wish it felt as comfortable as I want it to. Digging out my cash, I buy Davis a train pass for the day.

“Amelia, I’m the man. I should be paying.” He sighs, pulling out his own wallet.

“I lost the bet, so lock up the wallet, and enjoy the day.” I buy his ticket from the machine and turn around to wait for him.

He’s a stubborn one. After two people swear at me for having to go around me, he finally relents.

“Thanks. That old lady was about to kick my ass for holding up the line.”

He laughs, and his face reddens. His eyes ping around to see if anyone is watching us. I assume me paying must really bother him.

“You know I can just add this in to your paycheck, right?” he says as we wait for the train.

“You’ll have your chance to woo me, Davis.”

“In more ways than one.” He bumps his shoulder with mine.

Now, it’s my turn to flush with heat. “I look forward to it.” I breathe deeply, hoping it slows my heart rate.

The train arrives, and we file in with everyone else.

I take Davis on a tour of art that fills the train stops, making him exit the train at each stop. I point out each of my favorite pieces that happen to be mostly mosaics. They’ve forever made me envious of the talent each artist possesses. To make one solid art form from a zillion different pieces awes me.

“I can’t believe I’ve never noticed this.” Davis’s hand swipes along the art. “It’s beautiful.”

We’re on our fourth stop, and each time, he’s said the same thing. I’m guessing he’s not an art admirer, but he’s trying, and that counts in my book.

“When is the last time you took the train?”

I peer up at him, and his palm rubs his chin. A sly grin crosses his lips, and I giggle.

“That long, huh?”

He nods. “Embarrassingly long.” His eyes cast down to me as his face goes solemn. “I think I’ve stopped seeing what’s around me.”

My breathing staggers from how unnerving his eyes are on me. The train squeals to a stop, and we wait for others to file out before we enter.

“Where to now?” he asks.

I tug on his hand. “Dinner.”

“My specialty.” He releases my hand and places it on the small of my back, guiding me into the train.

With it being later in the day, there are no seats, so Davis stands behind me against the rail. His body shelters me as I grip the metal pole harder.

“Come home with me,” he whispers in my ear.

The hair on the back of my neck stands up.

“I can’t go home with you. It’s our first date,” I joke, peering over my shoulder at him.

His cheek runs along mine. The five o’clock stubble has grown since we left.

“Just dinner, Amelia.” He lowers his voice again, and the deepness dampens me between my legs.

I twist around and move my hands behind my back to grip the pole to steady myself. Then, I realize this might have been a mistake. He’s so close, those brown eyes piercing into mine. His eyes flicker from my breasts to my lips to my eyes. I wish the appeal of being laid out naked on his bed for him to devour me doesn’t change my mind about going back to his apartment. God, he’d do amazing things with my body.

“I’m taking you to a local joint.” I change the course of conversation before I really do sleep with him on the first date.

He dips down, so his face is mere inches from mine. “My condo is local.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, and I seriously doubt it can be called a joint.”

He chuckles. “You have me there.” His hands graze down my body until they mold against my hips. “I want to cook for you.” The seductiveness in his voice has me second-guessing my decision.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” I place my hand on his chest to push him away, but his hand lands on top of mine.

“I don’t. I cook for very few people privately, Amelia.”

I stare off to the side and wiggle in his grasp. “Another time, okay?”

He remains focused on me for an unnerving ten seconds before his head slowly moves up and down. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

He releases my hand, and I grip the pole again so I don’t fall into him when the train rocks back and forth.

“Where to then?” He places his hands above my head.

My eyes gaze to his hips. What would it feel like to hold myself steady with his body instead of the metal pole? If he were mine, I could touch him whenever I wanted.

“You’ll see.”

The conductor announces the stop, and my eyes light up. “This is it.”

I take his hand with mine and tug him out of the train and into the subway station. Once we scurry up the steps, the streets are dark, and a light drizzle falls down on top of us. It’s eerily romantic. As we get closer, I catch the sight of the neon sign, and Davis figures out where we’re going.

“You are refusing a five-star gourmet meal for a hot dog?”

I smile. The streetlight casts a glow across his face. He’s drop-dead gorgeous.

“I am.”

“It’d better be a damn good hot dog.”

“Better than you could make,” I tease.

He lets go of my hand and begins tickling my sides.

I squirm away.

“You think so?” He continues his attack.

Soon, he locks me against the wall outside the door to the restaurant.

“I’d make you melt over my food.”

“I think you can make me melt.” The words leak out before I can grab them back. A flush swims up my neck and cheeks.

Davis smiles down to me. There’s no guarded or scared look in his eyes.

“I’m glad,” he says.

He bends, and my breathing stops as I wait for his face to reach mine. His moist lips brush against mine, and my body calms. I thread my fingers through the back of his hair while his tongue parts my lips. He quickly becomes more urgent, his tongue delving deeper into my mouth. A low groan escapes his throat, and it takes every ounce of my willpower not to swing my leg around his hip. He steps into me more, flushing our bodies together against the wall. His fingers dig into my hips, and there’s never been another kiss my whole life that has given me a feeling filled with want.