Page 30 of The Casanova Complex

Her eyes flare as she stares at the croissant before eagerly taking it from my hand and immediately biting into it.

Her eyes flutter shut, and the softest, sweetest moan escapes past her lips⁠—

—and shoots straight to my dick.

Motherfuuuuuucker.

DOWN, BOY. WE ARE NOT GOING THERE. OFF-LIMITS. WALK AWAY SLOWLY.

“Holy shit, this is soooooo fucking good,” she murmurs around a mouthful. The sounds leaving her are heavenly, and I greatly underestimated how much flaky bread stuffed with chocolate would please her.

Damn.

I hope she doesn’t look under the table because that’ll be real awkward to explain.

Jesus Christ.

I’ve got to get my shit together.

I chew at the inside of my lip, forcing myself to think about grandmas. That time I cut my finger on a hockey skate when I was a kid and almost threw up on the doctor.

Smelly socks. Jockstraps.

“See? Can’t be mad when you have buttery goodness,” I quip, taking one of the strawberry beignets out of the box.

Merritt’s gaze tracks me as I do. Once she swallows her bite, she says, “Wait, all of that is for you?”

“I mean, I’ll share with you. Maybe. If you ask really nicely.”

She narrows her eyes, and I chuckle. “What? I’m a growing boy, okay?” I take a massive bite out of the beignet, which leaves only a small piece remaining. Holy fuck, that’s good. Jesus. I shrug, adding, “Plus, do you know how many calories I burn playing hockey? A whole fucking lot. I need to save my energy for extracurricular activities, babe.”

Merritt shakes her head. “Spare me the sordid details of those, please. My ears might bleed, and I’m trying to enjoy my food.”

“Nah, I’d have to show you anyway.” I smirk. “It’s the kinda thing you have to experience firsthand, not hear about to get the full effect.”

Her eyes roll. Shockingly, she doesn’t have a smart-ass response. She simply takes another bite of her croissant.

In the time it takes her to finish hers, I scarf down the other beignet and half of the cinnamon roll. “Do you come here a lot?”

“Sometimes. If I’m having trouble focusing at home and nothing is working, then I’ll come here as a change of scenery, and it’s literally only like two minutes from my house. I never leave my brother for very long.” I watch as she tucks a piece of long, dark hair behind her ear, noticing for the first time the scattering of earrings along the shell in various different sizes and styles. Some silver hoops, others small studded gems. The biggest in her lobe is a purple gem that gleams when the light hits it.

Not going to lie, it’s hot for some reason.

I have no fucking clue why.

But I like that she expresses herself in jewelry, like her cute little pierced nose and the stacks of rings she’s always wearing.

It’s sexy, and I have no doubt that’s completely unintentional.

For the first time since I stepped into the bakery, I give myself a few seconds to drink her in. Sitting this close beside her, I find the small beauty mark that’s dotted on her smooth, pale cheekbone and notice how dark her eyelashes are as they frame her deep brown eyes.

She’s got on an oversized black OU Law sweatshirt and a pair of tight black leggings that I can’t truly appreciate while she’s sitting and her signature black choker. I don’t think I’ve seen her without it.

“What’s your major?” I blurt out the thought the moment it flits through my brain. I’ve been wondering about it since the day we met in the study room, but we haven’t exactly shared any personal shit outside of what’s necessary.

Something that I’ll hopefully be rectifying. ASAP.

“My major?” She repeats the words slowly, her brow tightened together, like she’s confused that I’ve asked.