Page 18 of Honey, Honey
“I’m pretty sure he’s going to get my number soon, or you know, like ask me to stay and have dinner with him.”
“Really?”
She nodded, biting the end of her pen and grinning at me. “Oh, yeah, he’s been eye fucking me all night. I’ve seen him before. I’ve waited on him all the other times he’s been in and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that he requested a private room in my section. I think he’s finally making his move tonight.”
My brows furrowed and my drunk girl support faltered. “You don’t think that’s a little weird? What if he’s stalking you?”
Melissa laughed at me, and even drunk I knew the look she was giving me was a little pitying. “It’s not stalking, it’s romantic,” she said with a shake of her head.
I nodded along as if she made sense, because I knew she didn’t. Showing up at someone’s work was the opposite of romantic. It was one of the things I liked about moving around so much with BaristApp. If someone made me uncomfortable, I didn't have to worry about them being able to find me again. There was safety in anonymity. But putting down roots? Choosing one place to work and exist was risky. Always had been, always would be.
I couldn’t take Tiffany up on her offer, even if the tips at A Different Brew were amazing.
“Anyways, I’ll get those drinks to your table, okay hon?” She stopped and gave me an assessing look as if she were really seeing me for the first time. “You good though?” She asked.
“Yup,” I said with a bigger nod than was needed, “just on my way to the little girl’s room. It’s that way, right?” I pointed behind her.
“First door on the right.”
“Thanks, Melissa.”
“Sure thing.” She gave me another smile, this one didn’t seem so bubbly and then she was off, her dark ponytail bouncing as she hurried away. Probably back to her private room with her sexy stalker man.
I screwed up my face and shook my head. “Why would anyone think that’s romantic?” I asked, walking down the hallway and towards the restroom. I stopped when I got to the end of the hallway and saw there was no door in front of me. Shit. I’d gone too far. What had she said? The door was on the right...or was it the left? I turned back and looked around the hallway.
“Did she mean her right or my right?” I threw out my hands in frustration and then settled on the door in front of me. It was to the right of where we’d been standing and it was the first door, so thisone was probably it.I was about 95% sure this was it, so I reached out and slid the paper door open, striding into it with all the confidence in the world. It was only when I had slid the door closed that I realized I was definitely not in a bathroom.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” I blurted out. There was a table with sizzling meat and a man sitting at the end of it. He had his head bent over his phone, tongs in his hand while he scrolled. “Shit, I am so sorry,” I continued, reaching behind me for the handle of the door and missing. I accidentally pitched to the side and bumped against the wall. I winced, but was grateful he was still looking at his phone, but then he was lifting his head and looking directly at me.
Blue eyes the color of tropical waters hit mine and I felt like the air had been punched out of me. Those eyes. I knew those eyes. I’d been thinking about those fucking eyes all week and now here they were when I was drunk and lost on the way to the bathroom.
“Fuck,” I blurted out, because my stupid brain refused to keep my inside voice on the inside of my fucking head.
“Honey?”
That sucker punch felt more like a body slam because–he remembered my name? He didn’t just remember it. Lawson Sokolov didn’t even hesitate to say my name.
“You remember me?” I asked, because my brain was still hosting a revolt and bent on embarrassing the fuck out of my drunk ass.
Lawson gave me a slight nod, his eyes scanning over me before he stood from the table and set down the tongs. “What are you doing here? Have you been drinking?”
“I came here because I was hungry and I had a bad day,” I said, mouth continuing on before I could stop it. I shook my head, “Wait, do you mean here likethis room,or the restaurant? I thought this was the bathroom and-”
“Why did you have a bad day?” He was striding towards me now and I backed up again, hitting the wall and bouncing off it slightly, my arm going out to the side to steady myself. Lawson caught me then, a hand at my waist with the other curling around my outstretched arm. “You have been drinking.” He was frowning at me and I blushed hot under his attention. I didn’t like that he was frowning.
“Honey, who are you here with?”
I licked my lips and dropped my eyes to my feet. “A friend.”
Lawson’s fingers flexed on my waist and he stepped closer to me until there was no space between us. I went tense where we touched. We were flush together, my waist against his front. I could feel the hard muscle of his chest against my breasts. My breath caught, nipples hardening at the pressure because he was so close. Too close, really, for people that didn’t know each other. Okay, we were too damn close even for people who did know each other in a non-sexual way.
This was not platonic standing. But I didn’t care because since Monday, I’d had Lawson Sokolov on the brain. I arched my back, pressing myself to his front and when I felt his thumb on my chin, tilting my face up, I let him.
“Is it a friend, or is it a date?” His voice was lower and I felt the octave change down in my belly. Fuck, he was hot.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” I said instead of answering him. I watched him clench his jaw, the line of it hardening just like I remembered, and I smiled. “You're hot when you do that,” I said, nodding up at him. “But you probably know that.”
“Answer me, Honey.” His thumb brushed against my bottom lip and I hummed, as my eyes drifted closed.
