Page 45 of The Dare

As if thinking about the man has some magic behind it, I can hear his deep voice further away wishing someone a good morning as he orders breakfast for our table.

Suze groans, and clicking her tongue with a dirty glance in Michael’s direction, she makes to leave.

“Suze, wait,” I plead, reaching out for her arm but thinking better of it.

“Wait for what? Another installment of look how fucking great I am starring you two? I don’t think so,” she says dryly, walking away before I can say another word.

The place where she sat is soon covered by Michael’s huge shadow, and I turn to face him.

He lifts me up for a hug, tilting his head to kiss me, but I turn my head, following Suzanna and opening my mouth to call after her.

“Uh,” Michael says, sounding apologetic. “I picked a bad time to make an entrance didn’t I,” he observes.

I shake my head and stand on tippy toes to peck his cheek.

“It’s not you, it’s Suzanna, and she’s pretty pissed,” I murmur, stating the obvious.

“And…” I continue, letting a finger drift from what I can reach of his face and neck, trailing down his front. “…I think you made a pretty darned goodentrance,” I tell him, my body buzzing at the memory.

Making him smile once he realizes I’m not talking about him coming down to breakfast.

“Itisme though,” he says. “Your friend there’s had it in for me since she figured out just how crazy I am about you.”

I sigh heavily, not wanting Suzanna to ruin what’s only started, but also not wanting to trouble Michael with my petty problems either.

“What can I do?” I ask absently.

WhatcanI do?

Chapter Fourteen

Michael

I can handle Suzanna’s frosty reception.

Nowhere is it written that we have to like everyone we meet, and I’m no stranger to people who might not take a shine to someone as big as I am.

I usually get the stink eye from older guys though. Not people Suzanna’s age.

Natasha’s age.

It’s hard for me to see her as the same age as her friend. Natasha’s so… mature by comparison.

I can’t help but think what I’d do if the tables were turned and it was Natasha who hated me the way her friend does.

What would I have done if I’d met her and she didn’t like me?

I stop the thought before it evolves into something else.

That kind of thinking is dangerous and has no place in my mind next to Natasha.

“Ithink we should have our breakfast and leave her be for now,” I suggest. Hearing my stomach growl at the thought of food.

It sounds pretty unhelpful really, but I don’t feel like I should be telling Natasha how to handle her relationship with her best friend.

They’ve known each other their whole lives from what she’s told me. She’d know more about what to do with her friend than I would.

My advice appeals to Natasha though, and she even thanks me for it. Using it as an excuse to kiss me again, which I don’t mind at all.