“Good. Now tell me why you’re so crabby.”
“Everywhere I turn, people are either recognizing me, emailing me, or messaging me. I wasn’t prepared for that.”
“I’m going to tell you what you need to hear. It’s not going to stop anytime soon. The minute you appeared on Channel Nine news, you were placed on people’s radar. They want to know more about you. Eventually, that’ll die down.”
“But not while we’re filming.”
“No.”
“I can deal with a few more weeks of this.”
His lack of response sets of an alarm. I ignore it as we say goodnight and go our separate ways.
ANDERS
“Cookie King. Cookie Woman!” I wave at the people who shout out our nicknames as we enter Hill of Beans. The warm greeting has me feeling like we’ve been voted Prom King and Queen. It’s that energy that’s pushing our story out there faster than even I imagined. The Hill does intricate monthly themes, and with Valentine’s Day fast approaching, they were the ideal spot for a free photo op.
Buzz. Buzz. My phone dances happily in my back pocket.
“What is that?” Matilda asks as she drapes her heavy, wool coat over her arm.
Work Matilda is just as sexy as casual. Her black slacks accentuate her ass, and the white camisole shows a hint of the honey-colored skin of her collarbone underneath her matching sports coat. I can’t help but wonder if the flesh there is sensitive. Her wavy hair frames her oval-shaped face, and her dark, berry-colored lips remind me of a ripe, chocolate-dipped strawberry.
“Notifications.”
Her jaw drops. She squeezed me into her lunchtime, so the least I can do is buy her some caffeine and food.
“Holy crap.”
“Yeah.” I smile sheepishly. “My brother will be showing up soon to take shots for us. I figured we’d eat lunch now.”
“You don’t have to buy it for me.” She shakes her head.
I double down. “I insist, I interrupted your day.” We get into line behind a handful of other people.
“Did you bring it?”
“Yes.” She holds up her satchel.
“I’ll hold it.”
“Be my guest. The things weigh a ton.”
She hands over her bag, and our fingers brush. I feel the same heat that plagues me whenever we’re in close contact. Her eyes dilate, and I know the desire is mutual. Our gazes cling to each other like saran wrap to itself. Her pink tongue darts out to moisten her lips, and I follow the movement. She’s jostled, and I catch her, pulling her close to my chest.
“Sorry,” someone mumbles.
She tilts her head up and swallows. “Th-Thanks.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak when her curves are pressed against me. Her skin is warm beneath my palm. I move it down to the small of her back. My heart thuds in my ears as the blood rushes down.
“Are you two dating?” The question is a bucket of cold water.
“What?” we both ask.
Clicks go off. We step apart, and I miss the feel of her body immediately. She felt right there in my arms.
“No. We’re actually taking pictures for this week’s segment.”