Page 32 of Well, Actually
No.
The hostess clears her throat. “We had some spots open up at our community seating,” she says in a hushed voice, glancing at the crowd of people hovering by her stand. “I think a pair already took some of the seats but if you hurry you might be able to snag something.”
Ray moves faster than a bolt of lightning. Aida and I laugh as we follow him toward the back of the restaurant at a more reasonable pace. I try not to get my hopes up, but then Ray comes into view, arms spread wide and palms planted along one side of the banquet table to save three seats, scanning the room like an apex predator looking for movement.
He fixes us with his electric grin as we approach, and it raises my spirits to see him so excited. But as we get closer, I realize there’s an undercurrent of wickedness in that smile. The hairs rise on the back of my neck as his eyes widen in a manic look.
“Eva,” he says when I’m finally next to him, giving him a confused frown at the high pitch of his voice. “I believe you know our tablemates.”
With horrible, sinking dread, I slowly drag my eyes away from Ray, praying to every Roman and Greek goddess I can remember that the person I’ll see is some extremely hot celebrity and not the man I want to avoid for the rest of my life.
But the goddesses like to laugh at mere mortals like me because Rylie fucking Cooper smiles at me from across the table, Lilith seated next to him.
“Maybe we should cancel brunch,” I blurt out. I feel the shocked looks of Aida and Ray, but all I can see is the horribly enchanting, crooked smile Cooper’s trapped me with.
“Subtle,” he replies with a wink. “But I would never ditch Lilith just so you could have me all to yourself, Kitten. I would hope you’d treat your friends with a similar level of decency.” He gestures at Ray and Aida, and they melt at the beautifulroughness of his voice. Aida collapses in her seat with a contented sigh. Fucking traitor.
My face heats to the point of discomfort, and I grope for something witty to say back.
Nothing.
The shock of seeing him (and his peach-colored sweatshirt with a retro Santa Claus walking a dachshund withSanta’s Favorite Wienerwritten in red cursive) has cleared my brain of all thoughts.
“Nice sweatshirt,” I manage, my lip curling. I’m still looming over the table, something my height has me used to, but I’m also struck with an awareness that it puts my tits at about eye-level with the man I want to withhold all things pleasurable and good from. I plop into my seat.
“Thanks, I just got it yesterday,” he says, pulling it taut and looking down at it. “It reminded me of you, actually.”
I roll my eyes, and am horrified to hear Aida and Ray laugh.
“I love it, but it should be illegal to wear holiday gear in early October,” Ray says. “Happy Hallo-Wiener is literally right there.”
Cooper’s jaw drops. “I’m ready to invest.”
I grab the arm of the passing waitress. “Please bring me a pint glass for my mimosa and hold the orange juice.” She spares me the time for a dirty look before traipsing away.
Ray, Aida, and Lilith introduce themselves, passing pleasantries back and forth while I wait for my quart-jug of champagne.
“So you’re the infamous Rylie Cooper,” Ray says, propping his chin in the palm of his hand and smiling at the object ofmy loathing. “You were a highlighted topic on our brunch agenda.”
“Eva has endless kind things to say, I’m sure,” he responds, mirroring Ray’s pose. I hate how fucking adorable it is.
“I looked up how to create a bowel obstruction on an effigy doll,” I mumble, only to wheeze as Aida and Ray elbow me.
“Are you as terrible as Eva makes you out to be?” Ray asks, ignoring my scowl.
“The me she knew definitely was.” Cooper straightens his shoulders. His serious expression solicits a double look from all three of us, and he blushes from our attention, pushing his glasses up his nose and clearing his throat. “I mean, I like to think I did a modicum of growing up in the past six years.”
“I would never dare trust a man who uses the wordmodicum,” I reply, getting another elbowing from my friends. Damn, if they’re so enamored with him, maybe they should be the ones forced to date him for the viewing pleasure of the internet.
“There’s a sex joke in there somewhere,” Lilith says, meeting my eyes and winking. I laugh, but the sound harmonizes with Cooper’s, and I cut mine short.
Another thing I hate about Cooper is his laugh. It’s so deep and rich, the afterglow from a shot of whiskey. He laughs with his whole body, shoulders shaking and face crinkling, his fingertips covering his mouth like he’s half-heartedly trying to hold back his humor. I have the alarming urge to slap that hand away and scold him for attempting to keep that from the world. Clearly, I am extremely ill and in need of medical attention.
It isn’t until a few seconds later that I realize the table hasfallen silent, Cooper’s eyes fixed on me, something gentle and tempting in the way he holds my gaze. Everyone else is staring at me staring at him, and I correct my face into a grimace, trying not to name whatever softer expression it’s replacing.
“Is this weird for you two?” Lilith asks, flicking her finger between me and Cooper.
“Yes,” I answer over Cooper’s clueless “What?”
