More Than Sorry

18: She Admits Her Fears

EDEN

My cute white sneakers squeak to a screeching stop.

"Holy shit," I murmur.

Damn him.

Those precious minutes trying to cool down under the hand blower in the bathroom were a complete waste of time. Clouds of second-hand germs breeding all over me, and I risked it for what? One glance at Zach across the coffee shop, and I'm ignited back into a fireball of raging hormones.

He's just walked through the door, eyes scanning the morning chaos. He's wearing a scowl, a black suit, and the floral tie I bought him that I know he hated but was too nice to tell me.

My hands are clammy as I smooth down all the non-existent creases on my pink sweater dress. My nerves only pinch tighter when Zach spots me across the room, a slow smile brightening his face. He gets no smile in return because I'm stuck in some kind of lust-driven panic mode. I raise my hand in a quick wave and then hobble on my shaky legs back to the table as fast as I can.

The universe is laughing at me. I would be a sucky supervillain because yet another of my plans to force Zach out of his comfort zone has backfired spectacularly. I fall into my seat, biting my lower lip. 

Okay, I need a plan. What's my new angle?

Cool and disinterested. Yeah. That's my angle.

I'm gonna be so damn cool and disinterested and show Zach he has no power over me. Look at him, sauntering over to my table with his hand in his pocket, looking all casual even though he's dressed to perfection. Pfft, who does he think he is?

I cross my legs tight to dull the ache and then smooth my palms down my thighs to erase any lumps in the pink wool. Zach's nothing special. I am definitely not imagining stripping off that jacket. Or that shirt. I am definitely not imagining him hauling me onto this table, shoving up my stupid sweaty sweater dress, and then pinning me down to drive his perfect, hard—

"Morning, Eden."

Hot embarrassment floods over me. I wave, shifting awkwardly on my chair to avoid looking at Zach as much as possible.

Cool and disinterested, I remind myself. Yeah. I got this.

"Heeee-eeeey, Zach," I squeak. Oh, God. Not that again. I'm off to a fabulous start.

Zach's hand whispers over my shoulder and lingers for a moment before he takes the few extra steps to the chair across from me. I fight the urge to soothe the spot still tingling from that tiny brush of his fingers as he relaxes into the chair.

When the waitress's eyes land on my new companion, she makes her way over, hovering to take our order. As she ducks back to the counter, she leans down low next to my ear.

"I think I like this one better," she murmurs.

"Yeah?" I grin, whispering back, "Why? Super hot, right?"

The waitress lifts her shoulder with a little smirk. "You should see the way he keeps looking at you."

Oh.

When I glance at Zach, his eyes dart down to the suddenly mesmerizing napkin in front of him. Sneaky. Two can play his game.

Like a lioness stalking her prey, the rest of the busy coffee shop disappears. Zach is the only thing I see as I wait to catch his next move. My patience is rewarded. Head still low, his hooded gaze lifts, and slowly his eyes drag from the deep v of my pink sweater dress, to my neck, lingering on my lips, until he finally lands on my waiting eyes. A splash of pink flushes under his glasses when he realizes he's been caught in the act.