The second I hit send, anxiety coils in my stomach. I don’t have to wait long for a response. My phone vibrates almost instantly.
Alex
Älskling, sounds good. Can I bring anything?
I stare at the screen, my heartbeat skipping at the familiar Swedish endearment.
Riley, ever the nosy menace, peeks over my shoulder. “Aww, he cares.”
I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the small flutter in my chest. “Mind your business.”
She grins, plucking her wine glass off the coffee table. “Oh, babe, you are my business.”
An hour later, a knock sounds at my door.
Before I can move, Riley beats me to it, flinging it open with all the theatrics of someone who was waiting for this moment.
Alex stands there, unfairly sexy, dressed in a black shirt and jeans, his hair still slightly wind-ruffled. He holds a bag of takeout in one hand, a second smaller bag tucked beneath his arm.
Riley eyes the takeout before she even acknowledges him.
“You’re late,” she announces, snatching the bag from his hands. “But you brought food, so I’ll allow it.”
Alex chuckles, stepping inside. “Nice to see you, too, Riley, under different circumstances.”
My face heats up, fuck, that’s right—the oral interruption.
“Riley, Alex, Alex, Riley, but you both already knew that,” I say by way of introduction in between sips of wine.
She inspects the containers. “Sushi? Fancy.”
“Figured I’d keep it safe.” He follows her toward the dining table. “Didn’t want to show up with burgers if Elena was in a salad mood.”
Riley snorts, dropping into her chair. “Trust me, she only eats salads when forced.”
I groan, sitting down across from her. “Are you two seriously discussing my eating habits right now?”
Alex grins, setting the smaller paper bag beside me.
I glance at it, raising a brow. “What’s that?”
He shrugs, the corner of his mouth tugging up in that lazy, infuriatingly charming way. “Dessert. Thought I’d make up foreverything.”
The word lands. Perhaps he understands how the intense media attention is affecting me.
Riley claps her hands together. “Oh, he’sgood.”
Alex smirks. “I try.”
I shake my head, fighting back a smile as we dig in.
The conversation is easy, familiar. Riley launches into her latest dating disaster, complete with exaggerated hand gestures and a very dramatic reenactment of a man attempting to ‘neg’ her at work. Alex laughs, shaking his head, and I watch the way his shoulders relax, the way his eyes crinkle at the edges.
And every so often, I feel his gaze flick toward me.
An hour later, Riley stretches her arms dramatically, glancing at the time.
“Welp.” She claps her hands. “Sorry to love and leave you guys, I got myself a hot date.” She winks.