Page 33 of Savage Temptation
“And we’re supposed to look for it.”
He nods.
I burst into laughter because of how random this whole ordeal is. “Where do we even start?”
“I’ll make it easy on you. They should be around the theater district.”
“But that’s two miles away—in the opposite direction.”
“Then we’d better get moving.”
My heart lightens at the prospect of such an unusual date, but just as my spirit takes float, the nagging voice inside of me returns.
We’re supposed to be fucking. Not spending time together. Not enjoying each other’s company outside the bedroom. Not falling deeper. Not sharing experiences on the streets of the city.
But I’ll be damned if I’m not made for this role. Walking with Atticus, exchanging witty banter, savoring the peaceful ambience, makes it easy to forget what this is. There’s no mention of our past, or the people we both know. There’s just us and the time we’re creating for each other.
Along the way, he offers to take a picture for a couple. He’s never recognized, and they’re grateful for his assistance, offering to take our picture in return.
And when Atticus wraps his arm around me and says, “Cheese,” I know I’m in trouble, because I know for a fact, I’ll never feel this way standing with another man.
When we finally make it to the theater district, we’re both starving, and it becomes a manhunt for the food truck.
Atticus is frustrated, no longer thinking himself quite so clever. I’ve already picked out which cafe I’m going to snag a sandwich at, but before I throw in the towel, I spot the truck tucked down an obscure street.
Atticus orders an obscene amount of food, then takes pictures with the owner before joining me on a bench.
We chat a little about trivial things, then our food is brought out.
“Man, I still can’t believe Atticus Savage is at my food truck,” the owner enthuses.
“If the food is as good as she says,” he nods to me, “I’ll make sure to leave a rave review.”
Biting into a Texas Big sandwich really is heaven, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. Atticus is moaning as he bites into his.
And my girly parts take notice.
“I can’t believe you paid a food truck to play Where’s Waldo.”
“You didn’t seem keen on the idea of a sit-down dinner, and I didn’t want to rush my time with you, so my hand was forced.”
Oh, God—please stop these feels. The last thing I should do is read too far into what Atticus Savage says…
But the look he’s giving me is too easy to fall for. He’s the boy I always wanted, grown into a man so powerful, he has world leaders on speed dial.
And he’s with me, giving me all his attention, eating a damn barbecue sandwich so haphazardly, his expensive button-up shirt has no chance of survival.
“What are Ashley’s thoughts on our arrangement?” he asks.
“You know Ashley, she’s all for fun and mischief, but honestly, she’s acting different. I think the whole drug den, foreign jail debacle was a wake-up call.”
“I’m a bit shocked the friendship stood up to that, to be honest.”
“She didn’t mean any harm. If anything, she’s the only person who knows how to keep me sane.”
“What is it that drives you so mad?”
“You,” I say without thinking.
