Page 24 of Make You Stay

“Here’s your coffee,” I offer, thrusting a mug in his direction. “Just the way you like it.”

But Aidan makes no move to take the mug as he crosses his arms over his muscled chest. I notice he’s also wearing another thin t-shirt, only upping the sexiness factor. “Chloe, fess up.”

What’s the use in denying it? The man can tell by my idiotic blathering that he looks amazing. “Fine. I knew you were good-looking. I didn’t realize you werethatgood-looking.”

“You think I’m good-looking?”

“Yes, but I always thought you were good-looking.” Can we please leave this conversation? Let’s discuss a plague or something.

“On a scale of one to ten.”

“I’m not answering that, you egomaniac,” I laugh, feeling yet another flush climb my cheeks.

“Higher than seven?”

“Do you want more sugar in your coffee?”

“I want an answer.”

“You look like a model, okay? Happy now?”

“Does that mean higher than a seven?” Even when he’s intent on embarrassing the hell out of me, I can honestly say the man has the nicest smile I’ve ever seen.

Along with the nicest face.

I’m so screwed, or not, as the case may be.

With a groan, I grab my laptop and flip it open, even more aware of how ridiculous I appear next to his rugged good looks.

“I like the glasses.”

Catching his gaze, my eyes widen. That was an unexpected segue. “I’m sure you don’t. I look like a total nerd in them.”

“Just the right amount of nerd. You should wear them more often.”

“They’re more comfortable, but most people prefer me without. You’re the minority.”

“I don’t care what I am. I know what I like.” That intense green gaze roams over my body, and I can feel the heat from across the room. “Besides, I always was a sucker for a sexy librarian.”

“You think I’m sexy?” Hey, two can play this game. It’s my turn now.

Aidan clears his throat, a slight flush coloring his cheeks. “You’re a beautiful woman, Chloe. You already know that.”

“Not what I asked.” I’m not sure what it is about the way he’s looking at me—words spoken without uttering a syllable—that keeps me pushing this conversation forward.

Aidan releases a nervous chuckle, averting his gaze. “How was your date with… Zeke?” I can tell by the way he spits out the man’s name; he’s as big a fan as I am.

“Long and torturous.”

His gaze swings back to mine, those dimples on full display. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

No, you’re not, Aidan, and I’m ever so glad to see that relief crossing his face.

“He’s atrueegomaniac,” I add, my nails tapping the wood table, my gaze never faltering from Aidan’s face.

“He’s a complete tool. The man doesn’t deserve a woman like you.”

“What do I deserve?”

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