My heart begins to beat faster as we stare at each other.
You have no idea how good you look half naked, I want to tell him, but my mouth begins to go dry.
He drops the towel, drying himself off, and my breath catches.
Damn him for being so comfortable in his own skin.
Holy… shit. That body. I guess if I had it, I would be taking my clothes off all the time, too.
Without another word, he disappears into his walk-in wardrobe, and I close my eyes to revel in the way it feels to have such tingling in my toes. Shit, hold it together, woman.
Moments later, Brock comes back into the room fully dressed, and I find myself feeling a little disappointed.
What’s going on with me today? I tell him I want him to be a gentleman, and then I’m secretly disappointed when his is.
I need to get over myself.
“You ready?” he asks.
“Uh-huh.”
Again, he takes my hand, and I smile as he leads me down the stairs. I wonder if this is normal for him or whether this is him trying to be on his best behaviour.
Ten minutes later, we arrive at the café and take a seat. Callie and I come here often. The guy making coffees looks over, his eyes dancing with delight when he sees me walk in.
Shit. He likes me. He’s made it well known on many occasions. Brock and I sit at the table outside on the sidewalk, looking over the menus.
“What’s good?” he asks.
“Everything,” I say as I try to decide what to have. “I’m having the Eggs Benedict.”
“Okay.” He keeps looking. “I’ll get the super foods.” He closes the menu and looks up at me, breaking out into a beautiful, broad smile.
“What?” I smile back at him.
“You.”
“What about me?”
“Thinking you’re the boss of us and shit.”
I giggle. “I am the boss of us, Brock.”
His eyes dance with mischief. “But I’m the boss of all the physical activity.”
“And you seem very happy about that.”
“I am, actually.” He stretches and inhales deeply. “I feel like I was born for this role.”
I laugh. “You’re an idiot.”
The coffee guy comes over with his pen and notepad. “Hey, guys. How are you today?” His attention is focused solely on me.
“Good, thanks.” I open the menu, but I can feel the waiter’s eyes lingering on my legs, and then roaming up my body.
“Going swimming?” he asks.
My eyes flicker over to Brock who glances up from his menu and frowns. I giggle nervously. “Yes, I am. I’ll have the Eggs Benedict and a skim cappuccino, please,” I say. I look up and the waiter is staring at me, smiling with a dreamy look on his face.
“Do you always wear a bikini when you swim, or do you ever wear a one-piece?” he asks openly.
Oh God.
“Erm. Bikini, I guess.” Just take the order and go away, I don’t want to talk to you today. He’s so flirty all the time.
“I’ll bet you look good in it.” He smiles. He then remembers where he is, and he turns to Brock. “And what will you have, sir?”
“I’ll have your balls on a fucking platter if you don’t stop looking at her,” he growls.
My eyes widen. “B-Brock!” I stammer.
The poor boy stares at Brock, the colour draining from his face.
Brock glares at him. “I’ll have the super foods breakfast, and if you flirt with my girl again, I will choke you.” He taps the table in front of us. “Right here.”
The guy pales..
“Do I make myself clear?”
He swallows the lump in his throat. “Crystal.”
Brock hands him the menus. “My coffee had better be good, fucker.”
“Brock,” I whisper as the guy scurries back to the kitchen to hand the order in. “What the hell was that?”
He shrugs, and I can see that temper simmering just below the surface again.
“You can’t threaten people like that,” I tell him.
“It wasn’t a threat. I’m more than happy to follow it through.”
“Are you kidding me?” I gasp.
“I won’t have you disrespected by a skinny punk in a coffee shop who thinks he can check out my girl right in front of me. He was asking for it.”
“I’m not your girl.”
“You’re here with me so that makes you my girl.”
I roll my eyes. “This is supposed to be a romantic date and…” I shake my head, words failing me.
“And what?”
“And so far, this morning, you have urinated in front of me, stripped naked without a care in the world, and now you’ve told someone you are going to strangle them on the table if they pay me any attention.”
“And?” he says dryly. “Your point is?”
“You don’t see a problem with that?”
“No.” He looks at me as if I’m stupid “I see a problem if I pretend to be something other than what I am.”
I stare at him.
“I bet your other boyfriend used to be all puppy dog eyes and shitting over you.”
I smirk. “He was, actually.” I would say jump and Simon would say how high.
He rolls his eyes, unimpressed. “Pathetic,” he mouths.
“What about your past girlfriends?” I ask. “Surely they wouldn’t have put up with your temper.”
“I wouldn’t know.” He purses his lips and looks around the café at the other people, as if he’s completely uninterested in this conversation
“What does that mean?”
“The last girlfriend I had was when I was seventeen.”
I frown. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“You haven’t had a girlfriend for eleven years?” I gasp.
“No.”
“So, what? You just sleep with girls and then… leave?”
“Pretty much.” He shrugs. “We usually have a mutual understanding.”
Our coffees arrive from a female waitress this time, and her eyes linger on Brock a little too long. What is it about this place?
“Thank you,” I mutter, distracted. I think on this for a moment. “Why don’t you have girlfriends?” I ask. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s just not something I’ve ever been interested in. I was in the Navy, away for a lot of the time, and since I got back I’ve just been having fun.”
I stare at him as I try to read between the lines. “When you said that you knew a lot about me, what exactly did you mean?”
His eyes hold mine. “It was no accident we met in the club. I followed you there.”
I raise both brows and stare at him.
“I called my friends up and we staged the whole accidental meet up.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal.
I try to act unimpressed, but I fail miserably, and I smirk as I imagine him setting up the staging. “Why would you do that?”
“I told you. If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
For some reason, a thrill of excitement runs through me. He searched for me. I take his hand over the table. “I like that you came looking for me.”
He sips his coffee, and I can tell he’s uncomfortable with this conversation.
“But I have to ask…. why did you? Why me?”
“Because I couldn’t get you out of my head,” he says softly, a look of uncertainty crossing his face.
I smile as I watch him. If he hasn’t ever had a girlfriend, I doubt he’s ever had these types of conversations.
Am I the first one to try and break through?
My heart flips in my chest at the prospect, and our breakfast arrives. Brock begins to eat in silence, and I feel like I need to put him at ease.
“Well, Mr. Marx. I probably should inform you that I couldn’t get you out of my head, either.” I sip my coffee. “You have had a regular position in my thoughts. Even though you’re batshit crazy,” I add.
He gives me a slow, sexy smile, and his dark eyes drop to my lips. “Have you ever been fucked on Bondi Beach before, Pock?”
I snort the coffee up my nose. “No.” I gasp for air, pounding my chest. “Absolutely not.”