It sounds delicious. My stomach clenches in anticipation. I’m seriously hungry but no way can I eat a burger like that. With a ton of fries, stuffing my face like the pig I can be when I let go and just eat like I want.
“Um, I think I’ll just have…” I look over the menu, trying to find the most inoffensive thing on it. “A grilled chicken sandwich.”
“No fucking way.” He swipes the menu out of my hand. I turn to look at him in shock to find he’s glaring at me. Like he’s mad or something. “Are you trying to be one of those girls who doesn’t eat? Is that what you think I like?”
“My menu choices have nothing to do with you,” I say, returning his glare. “I happen to be on a diet.”
“Why?” He sounds dumbfounded. And can I admit how good it feels when his gaze slides over me nice and slow? “Your body is pretty bangin’.”
My skin goes hot at his words. This is another one of those moments where I should be offended, right? But I’m so not. No boy has ever said I had a bangin’ body before. I’ve always felt chubby but the appreciative gleam I’m seeing in Gabe’s eyes right now tells me he doesn’t see chub.
Which blows my mind.
The waitress reappears, handing over the giant vanilla Coke and my water. “What can I get you?” She never looks at me, not once and I wonder if she’s even aware I’m sitting in the car.
“Two burger baskets with cheese and extra fries,” Gabe says firmly, leaving me gaping. Say what? “And bring my girl a vanilla Coke, too.”
The waitress sends me a withering look, as if she only just noticed me. I scrunch up my nose and wave just the tips of my fingers at her.
Bitch.
“I’ll be right back,” she says lacking enthusiasm as she takes the menus from Gabe and rushes away.
“I didn’t want a cheeseburger,” I tell Gabe. I’m sort of reeling over the fact that he referred to me as his girl to the waitress. That was cute. And surprising. “I wanted a chicken sandwich.”
He grimaces. “No, you didn’t. Trust me. That would be like eating a piece of cardboard between two pieces of bread. Besides.” He lets his gaze drift along my body again and this time my skin sizzles, like he literally just touched me. “You don’t look like a girl who eats grilled chicken sandwiches.”
My mouth drops open in shock. Was that an insult or a compliment? I can’t tell.
“Curves like yours don’t stick around because you eat grilled chicken and drink water.” He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. Just his finger brushing my earlobe sends a scattering of goose bumps across my skin. “Am I right?”
He’s so right. And if he happens to like these curves then screw it.
I’m eating that burger and drinking that soda with total abandon. Everyone’s allowed a cheat day. This one will be mine.
Lucy can try and fool me all she wants but I knew the moment I first laid eyes on her she wasn’t like any other girl I’d met before. I mean, who struts around a pool knowing some perverted stranger—me—is watching you while wearing such a skimpy bikini? Those little stretches of black fabric could barely contain her and it was the hottest thing I’d ever witnessed.
She is the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed. But she’s pretty closed mouthed. As in, she doesn’t give an inch. It’s all pleasant small talk and burger protests and no, please don’t force me to drink that vanilla Coke.
But I did force her to drink that Coke and she fucking loved it. Her eyes slowly closed as her full lips wrapped tightly around the straw, sucking that drink up like she’d never tasted anything better in her life. I got hard just watching her.
Proving that yes, I’m a total pervert.
When the burgers arrived she didn’t hold back. Just attacked hers with relish and that made me hard all over again. She made these little moaning sounds when she ate too, and that wreaked total havoc on my libido. My muscles were drawn tight as I sat there, desperate to control myself while listening to her moan and sigh and whisper, “This is so good,” as she devoured her burger and fries.
A girl with a healthy appetite is sexy as fuck, I gotta admit. And every time she leans forward to grab her soda out of the center console, she offers me a glimpse of her cleavage peeking out of the rounded neckline of her tank top. She’s wearing some lacy bra thing because I catch a hint of sweet virginal white lace covering those perfect tits every time she bends over too.
She makes me sweat. My imagination is on pure overload. I shove my mouth full of fries, trying to temper my needs with food but it’s not working. I don’t want food.
I want Lucy.
“Tell me where you’re from,” I say after I swallow the last bite of my burger. If she wasn’t going to hold back, then neither was I. I lick my fingers, catch her watching me and put on a better show. For once, she’s the one watching and I’m the one performing. That look in her eyes is straight up hunger. “Why are you staying in that big house all by yourself?”
She takes her napkin and very carefully wipes her hands off and I can hear the little grains of salt and seasoning hit the wax paper that lines her burger basket. “Why do you think I’m staying in that big house all by myself?”
Good question. Lucky for her, I have a vivid imagination. “Let me think. Hmm.” I tap my chin with my index finger. “I’m guessing you’re a sheltered only child.”