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Eli leans over, calmly patting my back until the spluttering eases. Then he tilts his head, silently asking what the hell just happened.

“Sorry,” I manage, cheeks heating. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you reading…that.” I gesture to the book now lying innocently on the table.

He picks it up, clears his throat like he’s about to read Shakespeare, and begins in a low murmur:

“Tara’s cunt clenches around my cock as I dig the knife deeper into her flesh. She moans, half in pain, half in pleas—”

“Oh my god!Stop,” I hiss, mortified. My face is on fire.

He raises an amused brow. “Not into romance novels, DoctorMorgan?”

I swallow hard, trying to ignore the pulse between my legs. “No… I like them. I just didn’t expectyouto.”

He shrugs. “I consider it research.”

“Research?”

“This is what women want in a man, isn’t it?” He gives the book a little shake.

“I’m not sure wereallywant a man to stab us.”

He chuckles, eyes glinting with something dark. “Are you sure about that?”

My thighs clench under the table.

Fuck.

I shake my head quickly. “Pretty sure.”

He smirks. “Well. Still. I like to think there’s something I can learn.”

I nod, choosing not to respond as I pull out my own book—which just so happens to be the sequel to the one he’s reading.

He glances at the cover and lets out a low, throaty laugh. “And here you were judging me.”

“I wasn’t judging,” I mutter, blushing. “Just surprised.”

He waggles his brows. “At least I know it’s a solid pick if you’re already on book two.”

I fight a smile and bury my nose in the pages, pretending to read.

We don’t speak for the rest of lunch.

It’s… nice.

Comfortable. Easy.

By the time I glance at the clock, it's time to head back.

And, unexpectedly, a slither of disappointment hums under my skin.

“Thanks for letting me sit with you.”

“Anytime,Angel,” he says, voice low and warm.

I turn and walk out, heart fluttering in ways it absolutely shouldn’t.

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