Page 87 of Sweeper
“What are your intentions?” she asks, as she lifts her stunning blue eyes to mine. There’s a vulnerability in them that feels like a sharp punch to the gut. “This past week has felt quite a bit different than the casual sex arrangement we originally concocted, don’t you think?”
I set my drink down and place my elbows on the table to lean in closer to her. “What do you want this to be?” I ask honestly because if there’s one thing I’ve learned this week, it’s that I don’t want to lose Daphney.
She bites her lip nervously, and that little dimple on her chin emerges. “I asked you first.”
I smile because that dimple means she answered my question without even saying a word. And the fact that I’m not terrified of what she’s thinking is a new and different experience for me. Maybe it’s time I try something new. I resume eating my kabob and mumble around a bite, “Fine.”
She frowns at the food in my hand. “Fine, what?”
“Fine, I’ll be with you.” I look at her as I take another bite.
Her brows knit together in the middle with an angry sort of expression. “What the bloody hell does that mean?”
“I’ll be in a relationship with you.” I lick my lips and waggle my eyebrows at her.
“Are you joking right now?” Daphney snaps, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms. “After all those rules and weeks of doing what we’re doing, you think you can just change things like that?”
I set my chicken down and wipe my hands on my napkin. “Yeah. Why not? I like you.”
“He likes me.” She laughs and shakes her head, looking off into the distance with an exasperated growl as she takes a sip of her champagne before adding, “What makes you think I even want to be in a relationship with you?”
She looks like she either wants to claw my face off or kiss me. And I’m seriously banking on the latter. I reach over and turn her to face me. “Do you like me?”
Her lips purse together as her eyes drop to my lips. “I don’t like you right now.”
“Liar,” I whisper before pressing a soft kiss to her lips. When I pull back, the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile that she’s trying and failing to hide. God, she’s so fucking cute when she pretends to be mad. “We have something good here, and you know it, Ducky. Just trust me.”
The heated look in her eyes is all the answer I need, but we’re yanked out of our little heart-to-heart by a voice in the distance.
“Daphney, you sounded absolutely beautiful,” Tilly says in a strong Scottish accent as Daphney stands up to accept a hug from the bride. “I think I cried the whole time you sang.”
“She did.” Santino chuckles and leans in to hug Daphney as well. “My nonna even said you sounded like an angel, and she does not pass out compliments easily.”
“Oh, it’s no problem,” Daphney replies, waving off their praise like usual. “I was thrilled to be a part of your special day. Tilly, I’m not sure you’ve met Zander.”
“I have heard so much about you from Santino,” Tilly states, reaching out to shake my hand. “You’re a dead-brilliant sweeper for Bethnal Green. Well done.”
I laugh and wince slightly. “Could have done better yesterday.”
“Everyone has an off day,” Santino says, shaking my hand next. “It’s good to see you again, Zander.”
“You too, Santino. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Santino glances over at Tilly as she continues chatting with Daphney. “I can honestly say I never thought this day would come.”
“Probably true for most grooms, eh?” I chortle and elbow him playfully.
He turns his attention back to me and stares intently at my face. “You seem to be fitting in well with…everyone.” His laugh is awkward, and my brows furrow at his odd choice of phrasing.
“I guess you could say that.” I shrug and watch him speculatively. “You hooked me up with a pretty good neighbor.” Daphney glances over at me briefly, and I shoot her a wink.
Santino watches me for a moment before saying, “Well, I’m glad you’re settling into Bethnal Green okay. I wasn’t so sure when you first arrived. But now I feel pretty good.”
“Why weren’t you sure?” I ask, my eyes narrowing on him curiously.
His face falls briefly before he quickly plasters on a smile. “Oh, just…the American in London thing. You know.”
I clock the tense look in Santino’s eyes, but our focus is diverted when the DJ calls the bride and groom out to the dance floor for their first dance. Santino and Tilly hurry away, and I try to shake off the odd exchange as Daphney and I watch them drift across the dance floor.
