Chapter 16 – Lily #3
“Tuna sandwich for me,” Aster requests, and Dahlia shoots him a look but says nothing.
I fear he has as hard a time backing down from a challenge as I do.
His gaze trails her until she disappears into the kitchen, then returns to mine.
“The closest table is twenty feet away. I’d say we’re clear to speak freely. ”
My fingernails clink against the glass of my strawberry milkshake as I strum against it. “I’m not even sure where to start.”
“Well, how about with who is trying to convince you I’m the Kodak Killer?” he suggests in a hushed tone. “Who put that idea in your pretty little head?”
I pull my milkshake closer, wrap my lips around the straw, and take a sip.
His eyes drop to my mouth, then return to mine, and my body flushes with heat.
How much should I share? He keeps asking if I trust him, and the answer is…
maybe? Believing he’s the Kodak Killer would make all of this much easier.
I’m so tired of searching. But when I ask myself if I truly believe it’s him, I just… don’t.
However, that still doesn’t mean I trust him with my secrets.
After swallowing the cold beverage, I lick my lips that have become impossibly dry despite the sweet, sticky liquid. “Objection, relevance.”
“Cute.” His jaw ticks. “But we have to be honest, or this conversation is pointless.”
The glass scrapes across the table as I push it to the side. Then I place my hands under my chin. “Truth for a truth?”
He leans back in the pink-and-white-striped booth, crossing his arms. “Sure. You first.”
I tsk. “Not how it works, buddy.”
“Oof.” He throws a hand against his chest. “Did you just ‘buddy’ me?”
“Are you really worried about the pet names I call you right now?”
“Pet name?” He bites his lower lip, then releases it languidly in a way that’s far too attractive. I fear the tuna fish may be less of a deterrent than I hoped. “‘Baby boo’ is a pet name. ‘Hot sexy man’ is a pet name. But ‘buddy?’ Yeah, that’s friend zone material.”
My jaw drops open. “You’re not even in the friend zone.
” I grab condiments off the table and place them inches away from each other in a line all leading to my milkshake glass at the end.
Pointing at the farthest away item, a lonely ketchup bottle, I say, “You’re currently in the might be a serial killer zone.
Which is about”—I drag my finger past the mustard, salt, and pepper, then finally pause on a sugar packet closest to my sweet beverage—“four planets away from the friend zone.” A wide smile spreads across my face.
“So how about you slow your roll… buddy.”
He reaches across the table, pressing his finger on the sugar packet, and holds my eye contact as he drags it to the base of the glass.
“And how would one get from the sugar packet to the milkshake?” Clenching my jaw, I drop to his plump lips.
Trying and failing to forget what they felt like on mine just an hour ago. Fuck. Concentrate, you horny bitch.
“Telling me your truth is a good place to start.”
His grin only widens as he abandons the sweetener. “I’ll play if you promise never to call me ‘buddy’ again.”
“I will no longer call you ‘buddy’ tonight.”
“Ever,” he corrects, and I roll my eyes.
“Fine. Ever.” I clear my throat. “So, you tell your truth first.”
“Sometimes…” He leans forward, glancing around, and his voice drops to just above a whisper, drawing me in.
“When I’m alone late at night”—his chest rises as he sucks in a heavy breath, his piercing eyes boring into mine as our faces are just a foot apart—“I lie in bed thinking about you straddling me with that knife while I touch my co—” My foot slams into his shin, and he grunts, stifling a groan as the table rattles.
“What the hell was that for?” he asks, reaching for his leg. I rest my back against the booth with a satisfied smile on my face. This motherfucker loves getting a rise out of me.
“You’re supposed to be sharing a relevant truth.”
“Relevant to what?” He bats his lashes, eyes dancing with mischief. “Rules were unclear.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “Tell me something I don’t know but you think I’d actually want to.” He opens his mouth. “And if it includes your hand on your dick, I’m kicking you between your shins this time.”
He bites his cheek, and his gaze turns serious. Calculating. “You really want to know?”
Swallowing hard, I nod. No turning back now. “Yes.”
He leans forward once more, hands folded on the table. “I know you’re Karma. The Karma.”
My lips part, heart pausing in my chest. My eyes dart around the room, oxygen getting thin.
“What would make you think that?” I ask, tone level.
He tsks. “I thought you said a truth for a truth? You’re gonna lie to me now, Karma baby?
” My mouth opens and closes. What good would lying even do?
“If you wanted to hide it from me”—he hooks a finger on his collar, tugging it down, exposing the top of the scar I carved—“you shouldn’t have been so obvious.
” When I left the mark on him, I regretted it immediately.
But the intrusive thoughts had won. It’s my calling card.
Given he hadn’t mentioned it, I stupidly thought he missed the reference.