“Tell me about your restaurant.”
A warmth spreads inside my heart because he’s asking about my life, and I begin to tell him about my position and what I do each day. I leave out wanting my own restaurant and the investors I’m currently seeking.
Maybe this is a step in the right direction for us. Time will tell, but this is more interest than he’s ever shown me before.
CHAPTER NINE
Amelia
I’m jarred awake by Tatiana hammering, or whatever the hell she’s doing that’s making an annoying knocking sound. My eyes squint to look at my alarm clock, and the haze of blue gradually becomes clear through the fog of my morning vision. I focus on the sliver of sun peeking through my window until the noise triggers in my head.
“Shit!”
I throw the covers off my warm body, and the chill from the air conditioner ignites a rush of goose bumps from my head to my toes. I stumble to the door, and my feet trip over each other down the hall until I steady myself and gain my composure.
“Hold on a sec!”
I peer out the peephole and find a very irritated Todd.
When I open the door, Todd’s eyebrows shoot up as his eyes roam my body. “You forgot,” he deadpans. He bypasses me and saunters into my apartment.
I tug down my Mason Nash T-shirt to cover my hips. “No, I just got in late last night.” I shut the door and follow him into the kitchen area. Hiding myself behind the counter, I pull the coffee from the freezer.
Todd snatches the bag from my hands. “Go get dressed. I got this.”
A small smile creases my lips because it was my hope that he’d take over the responsibility, especially since I always make it too strong. Plus, Todd knows exactly how I like my coffee. If only someone made a Todd coffeemaker, I’d be in Heaven. I stretch my shirt to its max length to hide my thighs peeking out of my too-short pajama shorts. Knowing I have limited time to get ready, I run down the hall. Then, I jog back and peer my head around the corner.
“Hey, can you get the door if Gia comes? I’m going to hop into the shower, too. I have plans after the shoot.” I curse myself for revealing too much information for him to dissect.
“With Davis?” His eyebrows lift.
I ignore him, continuing down the hall.
“You’re taking that favor seriously, huh?” he calls out to me.
I stop outside my bathroom door, inhaling a deep breath. I knew we’d have to talk about this today. I’m not going on a date with Davis because of the favor Todd asked me to do.
I’ve convinced myself every night not to cross the line, but Davis has erased all my progress after giving me an ounce of attention. I can’t seem to stay away from him, but I refuse to ruin my opportunity to make money for my gallery spot. Bartending frees my days while paying my bills until I can break into the art world. I pray pouring vodka tonics won’t be my destiny.
After a quick shower, I pile my hair into a ponytail and throw on a pair of yoga pants and a long tee. My feet skid to a stop when I reach the family room. Todd and Gia are cozy on the couch. Her long legs are curled under her thin frame while Todd faces her, his arm outreached along the back of the couch.
The memory of Todd and me one night flickers to my mind without warning. I can almost feel the butterflies in my stomach as his fingers crept closer to my skin with every drink. Nothing happened, though, and that was when I realized he wasn’t into me like that. If he were, he would have made a move that night.
“Hi, guys,” I announce myself, shaking off the remembrance.
Gia jolts slightly and stands up to her feet, as though she just got caught doing something she shouldn’t have been doing.
“Hi, Amelia,” her voice stammers.
Todd sighs and reluctantly follows Gia’s lead, standing up, as well.
Pushing back the feeling of intrusion, I continue, “There are some robes outside the bathroom for you.”
Gia smiles and passes by me to go down the hallway. Todd’s hands grasp the collar of his shirt, and he yanks it off his body. His fingers reach for his pants button.
“That was a message for you, too,” I remind him, walking over to grab the steaming cup of hot coffee on the breakfast bar.
“You’ve seen me. What’s the difference? Unless”—he swings his hips, imitating a Chippendale dance toward me—“it turns you on, watching me strip off my clothes. Do you have any dollar bills?”
I shove him on the shoulder, making sure my coffee doesn’t spill at the same time.
He wraps an arm around my waist and grinds his crotch against my thigh. “I always knew you wanted me in your bed,” he whispers.
I shake my head in amusement, trying to sip my coffee to perk me up. There’s a small bit of truth in his comment, and I think he knows it.
“Get over yourself, Mr. Playboy. How did your date go last night?” I change the subject to keep that two-by-four between us.
He doesn’t understand how much he can affect me. After sensing something, his eyes turn down and he backs off, continuing to unclothe himself in front of me.
I twist around to face the refrigerator while he continues to undress. He’s right. I’ve seen him, but when I’m behind the camera, it’s different than him stripping right in front of me. When I photograph him, the lens shows the angles and the lights—but that’s not to say that, after the shoot, I’m not turned on. I usually am, and I reprimand myself for it every time.
“Sucked. She brought a damn friend. You know, one of those cock-blocker friends who’s so pissed she’s not going to get me that she makes sure you won’t, either.”
I hear his bare feet shuffle along the hardwood floor, so I face back around.
“You could have made do. I’ve never heard you refuse a threesome.” I bring the mug to my lips, and I close my eyes from the delicious smell.
“My mood soured last night. I went home early.” He holds his own coffee cup in his hands, and his lips purse to cool the hot liquid before he tentatively sips it. “You know I gave you that vote for the hot chocolate, right?”
“Yes, I know.”
“So, what did Davis win?” He quickly wiggles his eyebrows a few times.
“An art tour, with me as the host.”
His lips turn down, and his shoulders slump. “You do know that I was half-kidding when I asked you to keep him busy?”
“Were you?”
“Partly. I thought you’d keep him busy at the bar and out of the kitchen. It’s Sunday, and the restaurant isn’t open anyway. Have your date on a Friday evening.”
He laughs, but I feel as though something is different. His eyes focus on the countertop.
“He’s interested in me. Am I missing something? Is he some kind of man-whore? A habitual dater? Give me the reason not to date him, Todd.” I place my coffee down, leaning over the breakfast bar while my fingers play with one another.
Maybe his news will be enough for me to stay away, convince my body to allow my mind to win the war.
“No, not that I know of. It’s just . . . Davis is the boss, and if things go south, it’s bound to end in disaster. Think about it, Noodle. If it doesn’t go all the way, someone’s going to get hurt, and I fear that it will be you.”
His eyes reveal the concern he has for me, and I appreciate it. I do.
“Why do you assume it will be me? Do you think I won’t be good enough for him in the long run?” My head dips down, my eyes fixating on the small flecks of silver in the countertop.
“Hey.” His finger lands under my chin, and he pushes it up until I meet his eyes. “You’re too good for him. That’s not the issue. Sometimes, guys like Davis, who can and do have everything they’ve ever dreamed of, don’t know how great it is when they find a treasure tending their bar.”
A smile curls at his lips, and I take a deep breath.
If I’m honest, the same thoughts have passed through my head a time or two. It was the reason I tried to end it in the car last night. The impending heartbreak feels as though it’s lingering under the thinnest piece of glass, and the smallest pressure could shatter it, cascading me from happiness to sadness in seconds.
“Ready,” Gia interrupts the conversation.
Todd stares directly into my eyes, and I nod. Our mutual understanding of the risk I’m taking with Davis has been made. With nothing more to say, I shake Todd off and guide them down the hall.