Page 66 of Breaking Hollywood

They’re talking about sex. I start to get hot again. And it’s not just because of this fucking sweater.

I hand Gabe his coffee.

“The only reason I’m not getting some is because of this fucking thing on my leg,” Gabe says to him.

And, now, I’m thinking about sex. With Gabe.

Good God.

“Tate, do you take creamer and sugar?” My voice is high-pitched. I clear my throat.

Gabe chuckles lightly next to me.

“Just creamer,” Tate tells me.

I make Tate’s coffee and hand it over.

I pick my black coffee up and take a sip when Gabe says, “Talking of sex, Speedy showed me her nipples this morning.”

I almost choke, and coffee sprays from my mouth.

I slap a hand over my mouth, and my head whips around to Gabe. My eyes are as wide as saucers.

The bastard is grinning.

I grab a napkin and start to dry my mouth, hand, and then the table. “God, I’m so sorry, Tate.”

“You didn’t get the food. It’s fine.” He smiles, but I can tell he’s dying to laugh.

Gucci hasn’t moved an inch from her spot on Tate’s lap.

I turn back to Gabe, who’s still wearing a winning smile that I want to wipe from his gorgeous face.

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Me? What did I say?”

I open my mouth to say it, but then I realize, that’s exactly what the big jerk wants. He wants me to say nipple in front of Tate.

The perverse asshole.

“There’s something seriously wrong with you.” I shake my head and turn back to Tate. “Was he dropped on his head as a baby?”

Tate laughs. “Quite possibly.”

“Well, I think you should get him tested. I’m pretty sure he has mental problems.”

“Speedy?” Gabe’s voice prickles the back of my neck.

I slowly turn to look at him. My eyes are like lasers burning a hole in his skull. “What?”

He dips a nod at my chest. “You’ve got coffee on your sweater. You might want to change it.” Then, he smiles big as he picks up a muffin and takes a big bite.

I want to kill him. Dead.

I hope he chokes on that muffin.

Gah!