Page 22 of When It's Us
“Do you want me to take one of you?” I ask, lifting my chin to the spot where I’m sure she was about to take a selfie.
I know she does something with websites and marketing for work, but I wouldn’t know what exactly because I’m literal shit at anything past using my laptop for drafting. I know how to use my iPhone, which is a step up from Hank, but I don’t use social media.
“Hmm?” she asks, flicking a glance in my direction.
“A picture of you.” I gesture behind her. “I’m assuming you want it for FaceTok or InstaTik or whatever the hell you call those websites.”
The words come out more sarcastic than I mean them to. I guess it’s easier than admitting I just want to look at her—all windblown and gorgeous, backlit by the setting sun.
Sappy much?
She shoots me a look. “They’re calledapps. And what the hell is FaceTok?”
I chuckle. “Don’t ask me. My sister’s all use that shit. I couldn’t tell you what to do with it if I tried.”
“It’sTikTok and Instagram.” She shoots me a haughty little look. “And Facebookis for old people.”
“That so?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. “You got Facebook, California?”
“Did you just call me old?” she hisses.
If I remember right, she’s only three years older than me, but I'm obviously going to take any chance I get to tease her.
I hold up both hands, palms facing out. “You’re the one who said it was for old people. I was only asking if you had one.”
She turns away from me with a huff, making me smile. She’s so goddamn uptight. Is it crazy that her snide little mannerisms have my dick thickening in my pants?
“Here,” I say and close the distance between us, “let me take one of you to send to your boys.”
She eyes me and then reluctantly hands over her phone. I take it from her and watch as she gets into position. But she can’t seem to let a nicety stand.
“Do you even know how to use a smart-phone?”
“I’m not an idiot,” I quip, giving her a dry look.
“Debatable,” she mutters, but her gaze sweeps down my body before bringing her eyes back to mine. My dick gives a little twitch. I like her eyes on me.
“You finished insulting me while simultaneously eye fucking me?” I ask, brow arched at her.
Her cheeks flush a bit. “I wasn’t—”
But there’s the smallest hint of a smile tugging at her lips, like she knows she’s caught.
“Move to the left a bit,” I say, framing her on the screen.
Her eyes bore into mine through the camera. She doesn’t so much as crack a smile.
“You just gonna scowl at it?”
Her tone is syrupy sweet. “Isn’t that what all your women do?”
That pulls a bark of laughter out of me, and I shake my head. “Fucking smile, will you?”
She lets out a soft huff, a reluctant grin breaking through. “Just take the damn picture, Bigfoot.”
“If you say so.” I click the button a couple of times and manage to get at least a shot or two where she doesn’t look like she wants to rip my head off.
I stride toward her and hand her the phone. She shivers when our fingers brush and that shit lights me up. She can play games all she wants, but her smart mouth is one of my favorite things about her and the attitude she gives me? That’s goddamn foreplay. Andif the look of satisfaction on her face tells me anything, she enjoys this back and forth as much as I do.
