Page 26 of Only Be Mine

My shoulders loosened before I could stop them.

That annoyed me too.

He slid into the booth across from me, and Baby flopped down between our feet with a sigh like she’d just completed a long workday.

“She’s dramatic,” I said.

“She takes after me,” he replied.

I snorted.

He ordered me something simple - vodka soda with lime, like he didn’t want me dulled or floating, just softened around the edges. When he set the glass in front of me, his fingers brushed mine briefly.

A spark jumped.

I hated my body.

“Thank you,” I said, pulling my hand back like it was the rational choice.

He didn’t comment on it. Didn’t chase it. Didn’t make a joke to smooth it over.

He just watched me, steady and quiet.

“How was the rest of your week?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Loud. Clients are allergic to decisions.”

He smiled. “Still doing design?”

“Still doing design.”

“I like it,” he said.

“That I do design?”

“That you have a thing,” he corrected, like it mattered. “Something you care about.”

My throat tightened slightly at the casual sincerity of it. Men didn’t talk like that. Not the men I met in dark clubs with strobe lights and hands that liked to wander.

“I’m not that deep,” I said automatically.

John’s gaze held mine. “You are.”

I looked down at my drink.

He let the silence sit for a moment instead of rushing to fill it.

God. That was unnerving.

“So,” I said, because if I didn’t start talking I might say something reckless. “Where’s Seth? Did you lock him in a closet?”

John laughed, the sound easy. “He’s with Lindsay tonight.”

“The girlfriend exists,” I deadpanned.

“She exists,” he confirmed solemnly. “And she has opinions.”

“That tracks.”