Page 36 of Try Hard
“Same here,” Eve added, leaning a little closer to me. “Thanks.”
The scent of washing powder and whatever light perfume she was wearing hit me and all of it made me feel like I was falling down a hill, swimming without knowing how.
Couldn’t she have spent the last twenty years becoming a terrible person who smelled bad?
Sammy giggled. “Didn’t you get a lift with Alara? You can have a little cocktail with us since you’re not driving.”
I looked at Eve. That explained why she hadn’t said she needed to leave our conversation to drive when I’d pointed out needing to do so. I didn’t know who Alara was, but I was fairly sure I’d heard Kim say the name earlier, so she might have been one of the many bridesmaids.
Eve leaned back in her seat, returning to what was left of her pancakes. “I like to keep a clear head.”
“I don’t.” Sammy winked at Eve, and I couldn’t decide if the cocktails were starting to get to her or whether she was feeling bolstered by Eve’s interest in her job. Or whether she was simply feeling the pressure of dwindling time with Eve in which she could make a move.
True to her word, Eve hadn’t actually flirted with Sammy. She was friendly—very friendly—and Sammy wouldn’t be the first person to misconstrue that with flirting, but Eve really had not flirted with her.
She’d find someone, but I doubted it would be Eve.
A small, annoying part of me was glad. The knowledge soothed the part that had felt sick earlier. And, really, that was the sign that seeing Eve again had brought at least some of those teenage feelings rushing back, wasn’t it?
Inconvenient, intrusive, incompatible with my life. But there. Just…there.
Sammy stood, wiggling her hips a little like she had been doing at the bar, attempting to draw Eve’s attention to the fitted jeans. “I’ll be right back.”
She sashayed away, heading for the bathrooms. Eve wasn’t watching. One of the staff members was, though. Distracted from their job and following her movements across the room.
Eve leaned closer to me again, the scent of her completely overwhelming. She had no right to smell so very beautiful.
“You have to try this passion fruit puree,” she said, holding her fork out towards me.
Tanika cleared her throat to cover a laugh, and I saw her determinedly looking down at her own plate in my peripheral vision.
I looked from the fork to Eve. “You don’t need to give me your food, Archer.”
She grinned, looking almost triumphant. “I know. But youneedto taste this. You’re going to love it.”
Had she read my articles? More than once I’d written about passion fruit—drinks, meals, straight from the epicarp. Why did I even know that word? Why was I so overwhelmed it was the only word coming to mind?
I loved passion fruit. And Eve Archer seemed to know that.
She bobbed her fork a little, inviting me to take it. I was supposed to just… let her feed me?
Like a mesmerised fool, I leaned in and accepted the bite.
Had anyone ever denied Eve Archer something she wanted? If memory served, people had practically tripped over themselves to give her what she wanted.
I nodded as I swallowed. “Not bad.”
“Oh, damned by faint praise?” she asked, smirking. “For the poor passion fruits?”
I rolled my eyes and slid my plate towards her. “The passion fruit is great. Try the pico de gallo.”
She looked like she’d won the lottery even if I wasn’t feeding her. She did, however, help herself to my knife and fork to try it.
As she chewed, she hummed contentedly. “Very nice. This place is good. Might have to come back.”
“I’m sure Alara will be delighted to drive you forty minutes again.” I pulled my plate back towards myself, taking my fork from her hand without touching her skin—tricky given that her long, muscular arms were still bare andright there.
She shot me a look. “I didn’t mean with her.”
