Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks 2)

Annnnd I want to shoot myself for saying that.

“You have no idea.” Her eyes round into perfect circles as she points down. “Let’s just say it felt like I was on fire, and the swe—”

“Whoa, too much sharing! I want to learn as much as I can about you, Melly… nope not that one either… but let’s keep sexual encounters until a later date.” I laugh to show her I’m mostly joking, but the thought of someone else having their hands on her makes my blood boil.

“Sure.” She brings the bottle to her lips, pausing when it’s a few centimeters away. “You know now anyway… there’s special—” She cuts herself off, shaking her head as she sips her beer, her gaze moving to the pan. “What are we having?”

I turn around and flip the crab cakes in the pan, luckily they aren’t burnt. “Homemade crab cakes. The crab was caught fresh this morning.”

“Mmmm.” She lays her arms on the counter, leaning forward as she takes a deep lungful of air. My gaze flicks down to her chest before batting back up. “It smells seriously tasty.”

“I’m hoping they’ll taste just as good as they smell,” I reply as I place them on some kitchen paper to soak up the majority of the oil before putting them on top of the salad and drizzling on some sweet chilli sauce I prepared earlier. “Can you grab us two more beers?”

“Of course.” She spins on her stool, wobbling slightly as she stands. Her hand reaches out on the island to steady herself before I hear her heels clicking against the floor as I make my way over to the table.

I take my beer from her as she sits down, taking a seat beside her. “I hope it’s as good as you’re expecting.”

“I hope so, too,” she replies, a steady smirk lifting her lips as she picks up her knife and fork.

I motion toward her plate, watching her intently. “Dig in.”

Picking up my knife and fork and cutting into one of the crab cakes, I watch her do the same. But I don’t take a mouthful until she does.

“Oh, God,” she moans, closing her eyes as a look of absolute pleasure drifts over her features sending a painful squeeze right to my blue balls. “This is so good.” She dives in for another mouthful, chewing and swallowing in the same way.

“I’m glad it’s up to your standards,” I joke.

We eat in relative silence, and finishing before her, I lean back in my chair and mull over the name situation. I don’t want to call her something random, I want it be a shorter version of her name… but what?

“Mili?” I ask, but as I say it, it doesn’t feel right.

Her nose wrinkles as she stares at me. “No. Definitely not that one.” She lifts the last bite to her mouth before placing her utensils down on her plate gently.

“What about… Amy?” She shakes her head again. “Yeah, that doesn’t feel right either. Are you finished?”

“I am.” She nods, grabbing the edge of her plate, about to stand up but I wave my hand at her, signaling for her to stay seated as I pick it up.

“I need to put the meat in the oven, but we can still talk.”

She gives me a contented smile as I walk over to the sink, putting the plates in there for later on. The lamb, onion, and carrots take two minutes to put in the oven and I make my way back over to her, watching briefly as she smiles out of the patio doors, enthralled by something in the distance.

“What’s got your attention, Lia?”

As soon as the name slips out of my lips, her head snaps around and I feel a fire starting in the pit of my stomach at the look she’s giving me.

“What did you just call me?” she asks, a slow steady smile spreading across her face.

“Lia.” I walk over to the table and sit down. “I think it suits you.”

Her head tilts to the side. “I think I like it.” She leans forward, her arms resting on the table as she rolls the name around her tongue, her gaze sliding from mine. “Lia.” Looking back at me, she says, “That’s the one.”

A grin spreads over my lips and I raise my beer bottle in jest. “To finding your new nickname.”

She raises hers. “To my new nickname.” She takes a pull, not looking away from me.

I swallow the beer in my mouth and place it back down on the table. “So, how’s plans for Izzie’s birthday party going?”

“Good.” Her eyes flash at the mention of Izzie, her shoulders drawing down. “She’s so excited, we made a mood board with all of her ideas.” She smirks. “Guess what it has on it?”