AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Okay,” I prompt. “Count of three we both shout out the place with the best pizza in town.”
“Why are we both shouting it out? I already know I’m right; I just want to see if you are.”
“One…”
I roll my eyes again, but honestly, he’s so much fun.
“Two…”
He winks, and I bite my lip to keep from kissing him silly on the street. Mike would probably take his eye out if I tried.
“Three.”
“Lombardi’s!” we shout at each other.
Laughing, we stop right in the middle of the sidewalk and turn to each other, big, stupid grins on our faces. The moment stretches out, and I find myself wanting to freeze time, to stop the inevitable end, or even more dangerously, extend our time together in search of more moments just like this one.
Finally, I look away. “Who’d have thought?” I ask Mike, needing to lighten the mood. “The man has taste.”
Chase’s finger lifts my chin so that our eyes connect once more. “Of course. I’m with you, aren’t I?” His smile remains, but his eyes are serious. Searching.
Is he with me? Like with me with me? The last two days have been amazing, but he has to realize that we’ve been in a bubble, untouched by outside forces. No work, no client–employer minefields. This isn’t, can’t be, real. We can’t make promises and declarations with Monday just a few hours away.
I’m Cinderella waiting for the clock to strike midnight. But instead of being stranded with a pumpkin and a useless glass slipper, I’ll be left with a broken heart and a potential professional disaster. Again.
“I…” I clear my throat, unwilling and unable to pop the two-day bubble early. “I want Lombardi’s,” I say with a playful, stern face. “Make it happen, Moore,” I order.
There’s a flash of disappointment in his gaze before he blinks, replacing it with his usual mischievous glint. “Yes, ma’am.”
I gasp in mock indignation, relieved he’s let the question of us pass unvoiced and unanswered. “You’ll pay for that, mister.”
He dips his head, brushing his lips against mine. “I hope so.”
Mike growls between us, and we step back with a laugh.
I rub my hand over Mike’s smooth head, which pacifies the temperamental cat, while Chase reaches in his pocket for his phone.
“One Lombardi’s pie coming up.”
But before he can call, an email notification lights up the screen.
An email from Denise Hampson.
Suddenly the breeze is too cold, the silence awkward, and my appetite vanishes.
My phone, also in my back pocket, remains quiet. Evidently, Denise hasn’t copied me on whatever email she thought important enough to send on a Sunday afternoon. Even though Chase had been explicit that all information regarding marketing go through me.
Chase doesn’t even blink, ignoring the notification and sliding his phone open. He captures my hand with his free one and resumes our walk back to his apartment. I barely hear him ordering our dinner, too busy wondering why Denise is contacting him and why, even though the question of us remains unasked, it rings in my head so loudly.
20
CHASE
Bell’s moan is loud and deep. “God, that’s good. Mmmm…”
It’s official, I’m a sick bastard. Watching Bell eat pizza gives me a raging hard-on. I’m pretty sure that’s not normal. When she wipes a dribble of grease from her chin with her thumb and then puts it in her mouth and sucks, I’m ashamed to say I come a little.
Shifting on the barstool, I concentrate on Mikey, who is once again licking himself. Dude must have the cleanest balls in all of Manhattan.
