Chapter Nineteen

RYOT

Present day . . .

“You’re jealous,” I mouth to Myla from across the room while the guys and I hover over a plate of crackers and two bottles of white wine that the waitstaff so kindly brought us.

The first dip was interesting. The second, third, and fourth were marvelous.

And as we stood over here, dipping crackers into glasses of wine to our heart’s content, Myla and the girls sat at the table, drinking their red with the good cheese.

Yup, they were able to get more as well.

And sure, would I have preferred to sit at the cheese table? Yes. Clearly, that’s the better table because that cheese melts in your mouth.

But the brothership by the crackers is unbreakable. A once-in-a-lifetime bromance, something I would never give up for cheese.

Actually, that’s a lie. I would give it up real quick.

Myla shakes her head and chuckles at me before plopping her last piece of cheese in her mouth.

Can we just take a second to fucking appreciate her?

When she walked out of the bathroom in that romper, I was taken back to a time when we first started dating, and she wore something similar. We didn’t even go on our date because we didn’t make it out of the bedroom. I desperately wanted a repeat but knew that wasn’t an option. It pained me walking out of our hotel room with only a light touch to her lower back. Trust me, I wanted to do so much more.

And when we sat down at the table, my hand instinctively fell to her thigh. I wasn’t doing it on purpose. It was a natural thing that I’ve done for years, so when she didn’t shake me away, I didn’t pull away. I didn’t want to.

I wanted that connection.

I want . . . fuck, I want more.

Staring at her from across the room, I want so much more.

“Dude, you look like you’re about to eat her alive,” Banner says next to me.

“I love her, man,” I say as I sip my wine, watching as she laughs with the girls.

“I know.” He grips my shoulder just as the waitstaff comes out with plates of dessert.

The men flock back to the table, the cracker bromance quickly dissolved, and as I return, Myla turns into me and rests her hand on my leg as she leans in. “Guess what?” she asks, a lightness in her voice.

Yeah, we’re both feeling the wine. That much is obvious.

“What?” I ask as a chocolate mousse is placed in front of us.

She leans in closer, her breast pressing against my shoulder as she says, “The girls said it looks like you want to eat me.”

When she pulls away, I stare down at her lips and then back up at her eyes. “Because I do,” I answer without even thinking.

She smirks and then whispers in my ear, “Remember the time I surprised you in Atlanta? I was naked in your hotel room, and you spent half an hour torturing me with your tongue.”