Page 80 of Mine Again
I search my mind for the exact conversation, but it’s already fading into a blur of flirtation and laughter.
“Must have,” I concede. “You’ve got an excellent memory.”
“Only for the things that matter.”
My stomach does a strange little flip, part thrill, part suspicion, but I brush it aside.
He’s charming. Observant. Perhaps a bit intense. But that’s not a crime.
The drinks arrive, and he offers me a bite of his cannoli without asking, like we have done this a dozen times before.
There’s something comforting in it. Familiar.
And all of it feels… easy. Perhaps a little too easy.
“So,” he says, stirring his coffee slowly, “have I lived up to the hype?”
I give him a look. “What hype?”
“The texts. The phone call. The endless charm. I assumed expectations were sky high.”
I take a sip of my coffee, trying to ignore the way my pulse has picked up.
This is just playful conversation. I can handle it.
“You assumed wrong. I keep expectations low on purpose. Lesschance of disappointment.”
“Wise move,” he says, nodding. “But I prefer to exceed expectations.”
“Oh, is that what this is?” I gesture to the food and drinks in front of us. “You trying to impress me with a cappuccino and unsolicited dessert orders?”
“Worked, didn’t it?”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m still debating that.”
He leans forward, elbows on the table. His gaze holds mine, so intense I almost forget to breathe. “Admit it. You’re enjoying this.”
“What, the sugar or the ego?” I hate how breathy I sound.
He smirks knowingly. He must sense the effect his nearness has on me, and I wish I had more experience with men like him. Maybe then I wouldn’t be this affected.
“Both. Though I’ve been told I pair well with dessert.”
I nearly choke on my drink. “That was terrible.”
“But you laughed.”
“I did not.”
My cheeks are warm. He so easily gets under my skin.
He grins. “You’re laughing internally. Loudly.”
I roll my eyes, but my smile gives me away. “You’re impossibly full of yourself.”
“And yet, here you are,” he replies, giving me his trademark wink.
“For now,” I say, finishing the last bite of tart. “Don’t get cocky.”
