Page 75 of Let's Be Forever

“Why? Is it working?”

Her cheek twitches. “No. I told you last night?—”

“We still need to talk about that.” I bring the fork to my mouth and release a moan, slouching in my chair. “Jesus, this is good.”

“We’re not talking about last night.” She’s forcing her lips to remain flat. I know because the corner of her mouth keeps jerking up as if they’re trying to curl up.

I chew and swallow. “So we’re pretending then?”

“Yes.” She doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“We’re good about doing that, aren’t we?” I cock a brow, doing my best not to smirk.

Her gaze drops to her plate, but I don’t miss the dusting of pink on her cheeks. “I’m going to punch you.”

“Please do…” I tease, but then tone it down. “How was your day?”

She clicks her tongue. “It was fine. I had some people come in and ask if I was the girl thefamousSylas Lenoir Alves knocked up.”

I wince, guilt racking me. “I’m sorry about that. I posted online, begging everyone to calm down and leave you alone.”

She chuckles. “It’s okay. It wasn’t too crazy. Although, I did have some come in and want to ask me questions for their blogs or magazine or whatever. I told them to buy something or get out. Most of them did, and a few left and said they’d come back later.” She rolls her eyes.

I reach for her hand but stop halfway. “I’m so sor?—”

“Stop apologizing. I promise I’m okay. How was your day?”

Better now that I’m home with you, I’d say if I knew it wouldn’t make things weird for her. “Good, but better now.” We lock eyes. My brain screams to shut up, shouting that Rosie is just a few inches away, but I can’t shut my mouth fast enough. “I can’t pretend. I know you want to, but I can’t.”

“Your persistence is annoying. Move on,” she drones, but her eyes don’t match her bored tone. “I have.”

I clench my jaw. “Have you now? Who is he?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she tosses out absentmindedly.

I narrow my eyes. “You didn’t seem like you had moved on last night.”

“I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was tired, I told you.”

I laugh, my knee bouncing under the table. “Is that right?”

She stuffs her mouth and nods.

I lean in, tracing the shape of her lips, breathing her in. Quietly, I say, “No one knows your body like I do. No one understands what you like and how you like it.” I shift my leg, and the front of my foot taps hers. Her eyes widen a little, but she doesn’t pull away. “You may have moved on, but I know your body hasn’t. I don’t care who you’ve been with because I know it still begs for mine the way my soul begs for you.”

Her throat works a swallow, and I think she crosses one leg over the other as her foot hits my shin. “You were there. It was convenient.”

I grin. “You’re such a brat.”

“Just honest.” She licks her lips and takes a drink of her ice water.

“Are you squeezing your thighs together under the table?” I hedge, arching a brow.

Her legs shift again, hitting me again. “No.”

My cheek jerks at her response. “Are you being honest?”

Pink creeps up on her cheek. She wets her lips, but shakes her head. “I?—”