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“What are you doing?” he nudges me back, looking all cute and shy.
“Wingmanning,” I say, then slap on a smile as the girls look up from their drinks.
“Hi,” one of them says, her eyes landing on Elijah.
“Hey.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “How’s it going?”
“Great,” she smiles at him.
Good lord.
“I’m Luca, this is Elijah,” I say, pointing at him. “We’re just waiting for tacos, mind if we chill here?”
“No problem,” the other girl smiles between us. “I’m Emily.”
The one with her eyes locked on Elijah leans a bit closer to him. “Andrea.”
“Nice to meet you,” Elijah says, a small blush creeping up his neck. “This is a cool place, it’s our first time here.”
“We love it.” Amy, or no… Amelia nods. “They have the best margaritas.”
“Elijah likes margaritas,” I say, ready to get to the point here. “He can’t drink right now though, as he’s training for a fight.”
“A fight?” Emma’s eyes widen.
“MMA,” Elijah says with a nod, his eyes flicking to me briefly, like he’s checking if he’s doing this right. Oh, poor little soul.
“Oh, wow.” Amelia’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “That’s crazy. You from here?”
“Montreal,” Elijah says. “I moved here a few months ago to train.”
I smile, letting my little bird spread his wings and take this conversation on his own. And as my eyes land on our table across the restaurant, I’m met with a dark, piercing gaze. I can see the muscle twitching in Ty’s jaw from here.
“Do you fight too?”
“Hm?” I bring my attention back to the other girl before me. Ella, I think.
She tips her head towards Elijah, as he chats up his hopeful future date. “Do you train with him?”
“Oh, yeah.” I nod and smile at her. “We train at the same gym. We’re here with our teammates.”
I gesture towards our table, and she turns to look. Ty is still watching me as everyone else happily chats and snacks on chips and guac, and fuck me… the intensity in his stare, like he’s fucking claiming me, is getting me all kinds of worked up.
Ella turns back to me with a smile. “That’s awesome. My boyfriend is obsessed with UFC.”
“As he should be.” I wink at her, and she laughs.
“Order number twelve!”
“That’s us,” I say, tapping Elijah on the arm, and trying not to smile too hard when I see them exchanging numbers.
We say our good-byes to the girls, grab our tacos and head back to the table. Elijah is beaming and practically floating on air as he tucks his phone back in his pocket.
As we sit back down at the table, setting the tacos in the middle to a round of happy cheers, Ty continues to glare at me.
“Something you need to get off your chest, Tiger?” I ask, grabbing a taco and tossing it onto his plate.
“The fuck was that?” he asks in a low voice, his eyes sliding to the table with the two girls, and then back to me.
