“At least wait until after we order to sniff me.”
“Oh God.” She faced forward in a snap. “I didn’t realize I was doing it.”
The tan column of his neck flexed as he laughed. “My turn now,” he said, sobering, leaning in. “Fair is fair.”
The tip of Rory’s nose grazed her neck and Olive’s thighs audibly smacked together, squeezing, her lips popping open on a gasp as he breathed deeply in the space above her pulse. What was happening to her? Had this man reached inside her and found an on switch for her sex drive? As recently as this morning, she’d almost had to talk herself into being horny and exploring her urges, because grown women were supposed to be. Thoughts, fantasies, book scenes inspired her. Never someone in the flesh. Live and in person.
Rory pulled back and locked glazed eyes on her, their mouths mere inches apart. “Jesus Christ. Barely touched you. Wonder what that body would do if I got my hands and mouth on it?”
Faster than lightning, the seam of Olive’s shorts became damp, uncomfortable. Rory’s breaths came faster against her lips. They were going to kiss, right here in this milkshake shop—and even with precious little kissing experience, she wondered if they’d be able to stop.
“All right, you two,” the waiter groused from behind Rory. “Ain’t it a little early for this?”
Rory’s expression went from hot to cold so fast, Olive shivered. A muscle jumped in his cheek as he sat up straighter and slowly turned to face the waiter, hitting him with a stony look. “I don’t know.” His long fingers flexed on the table top, his fist coming down hard on the surface. Whap. “Is it?”
The waiter was suddenly fascinated by his order pad. “It’s all good, man. Sorry. What can I bring you?”
Another handful of seconds passed before Rory answered, the tension building further in the small restaurant. “Whatever your three most popular flavors are,” he said in a low voice. “We’ll take those.”
“You got it.”
Olive didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until the waiter loped off, disappearing through the swinging doors into the kitchen. She let it out silently, her awareness of Rory’s air of danger bigger and more unavoidable than before. What in the world had just happened? This man who’d pulled her out of the path of oncoming traffic seemed capable of mowing people down just as handily. As if reading her mind, Rory shook his head. “You’re one of the smart ones, Olive,” he said, pronouncing smart like smahht. “You weren’t supposed to call me back.”
Her pulse skipped as she processed that. “You were trying to protect me from yourself?” He searched her face but didn’t answer. “Do I need protecting?”
“God, no, sunbeam. Not from me,” he rasped, frustration shifting his body in the seat. “Look, you asked me if you’d regret it. Finding out what I have a thing for. The answer is yes.” He tilted his face toward the light, giving her a better view of his damaged eye. “Ask me how I got this.”
It was so hard not to follow that command, considering she’d been dying to know the source of his injury since they’d crossed paths. She didn’t want to hear the answer now, though. Not when he clearly thought it was going to be a deal breaker. “Why don’t you just tell me when you’re ready?”
That caught him off guard, but he recovered fast. “I was out being a fucking idiot. Looking for…” He trailed off, as if surprised by his own words. “I look for the fights. I go out and find them.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” He tapped a fist on the table. “And it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be around it. You’re the type of girl who’d realize it sooner than later, so I beat you to the punch.” The expression he turned on her was almost accusatory. “Turns out, it’s not that easy to walk away from you.”
The waiter appeared at the side of the table with a tray, moving their milkshake trio one by one in front of them and setting down straws. In Olive’s periphery, she could see the waiter hovering as if wanting to ask if they needed anything else, but she couldn’t manage to rip her attention off of Rory and the waiter eventually left. “I didn’t want you to walk away.”
He laughed under his breath. “You going to be trouble for me, sunbeam?”
“Why don’t we just drink milkshakes?”
Still looking troubled, Rory unwrapped three straws and stuck them into their own respective milkshakes. “Okay, let’s pick our favorite. You first.”
“Wait, no.” Olive’s spine went ramrod straight. “This feels way too much like a YouTube channel challenge.”
“I don’t know what any of that means, but it sounds serious.”
“Oh, you have no idea. Subscribers hang in the balance.” When his confusion demanded an explanation, she blew out a long breath. “I moved here from Oklahoma a week ago.”