I watch as he walks around turning off lights. Suddenly we’re in complete darkness except for the glow of the exit signs.
“Berklee.” His deep voice echoes in the darkness.
Before I can answer I feel his hand on the small of my back. The heat from his palm seeps through my thin shirt.
“Careful,” he whispers next to my ear. My body shivers and I know he feels it. I don’t say anything; I can’t without my voice betraying me. Instead I walk slowly with him leading me to the door. Once we’re outside under the gentle glow of the streetlights, I step away from him. From his heat.
Distance. I need distance.
“Let me get that,” he says, reaching around me and opening the truck door.
“Thank you,” I whisper, afraid my voice will betray me. I take a big breath as Crew climbs behind the wheel. I slowly exhale and try to relax against the seat. Looking over, I see his fingers gripped tight on the wheel.
He catches me looking. “Pizza.” He winks and puts the truck in Drive.
“So, why a club?” I ask, trying to break the silence and distract myself from my racing heart. Surely he can hear it.
“I wanted to invest in something, something I could be proud of. I inherited . . . some money from my grandmother, and I wanted to put it to good use.”
“I admire that. So many would blow through it, or gamble it away.”
“I didn’t go to college. School was never my thing. I was working a job living paycheck to paycheck, and when I found out about the money, I just . . . wanted something for me, you know?”
“I do, actually,” I tell him. “I graduated four months ago and I’ve been hitting road block after road block while job hunting. Everyone wants experience, more than just internships, and well, as you know, I have none.”
“How did they expect you to get it?”
I laugh. “Right? That’s my complaint. I appreciate you and Zane giving me this chance. I won’t let you down.”
He nods. “So, you and Zane know each other?”
Haven’t we been through this? “Yeah, causally. Like I said, it won’t be an issue. There has never been anything between us.”
“Right, your boyfriend would kick his ass,” he remarks.
“Yeah, you kind of need one of those for that to happen,” I say. He mumbles something under his breath that sounds like “idiots.” I can tell just from the sound of his voice that he’s being nosey. Two can play that game. “What does your girlfriend think about you opening a club?” I ask.
He chuckles. “You kind of need one of those for that to happen.” He pulls up to the pizza place. “Best in town,” he says with a boyish grin, then climbs out of the truck, me following quickly behind.
The smell of warm melted cheese and sauce greets us at the door. My stomach again growls.
“Let’s get you fed,” Crew says from behind me, his lips next to my ear.
Damn! Does he not realize what that does to me? What him being that close does to me? Of course he does—he’s one of those. You know, the type that knows he’s damn sexy and isn’t afraid to show it.
Crew leads us to a booth in the back.
“Hi, I’m Alice, and I’ll be your server. Can I start you off with drinks, maybe some breadsticks?”
“Sweet tea,” Crew says, then points at me.
“I’ll have sweet tea as well.”
“Breadsticks?” he asks.
I grin. “Only if you add cheese.”
“Breadsticks with cheese and an extra side of sauce.”
“Man after my own heart. The more sauce you dip them in the better.” I chuckle as Alice walks away.
“So, why business?” he asks.
“I guess since I already have the job, I don’t have to worry about being fired if I answer this question the wrong way?”
“Berklee.” His deep voice is scolding. “The job is yours, and the only answer is the honest one.”
The waitress delivers our drinks and I take a sip. “I’m one of those weird people. I love organizing and problem solving. I also enjoy paperwork.”
He raises his eyebrow in question.
“Really. I never minded writing papers in college. Homework in general didn’t bother me. I think it’s my organizational trait. My mom has it too.”
Before he can ask another question, a basketful of cheesy carb heaven is delivered to our table. “Are you ready to order?” the waitress asks.
“I like it all,” I tell Crew.
“Meat lover’s?” he asks me.
“Sure.”
“Large,” he says, handing over his menu. I do the same.
Grabbing a plate, I add a breadstick with some sauce. I take a bite and close my eyes, savoring it.
“So good,” I murmur. Crew clears his throat and my eyes pop open. His are trained on me. “So, uh, the interviews went well today.”
He nods, takes a sip of tea, and then places a breadstick on his plate. “They did.”
I take another bite. He watches me. I grab my napkin, wipe my face, and then take a peek. Nothing. “What?” I ask, paranoid.
“You’re sexy as fuck when you eat.”
“I don’t even know how to respond to that. You’re my boss.” I’m not sure who I’m reminding at this point, him or me.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Crew.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re sexy as fuck.”
I don’t miss that he left off “when you eat” that time. I look down, trying to hide the blush that covers my cheeks.
“That.” I look up from under my lashes at him and he’s waving his fork at me. “Sexy,” he says. “The way your skin pinks. . . .”
Oh my God!
“Here you go. Careful, it’s hot.” The waitress sets the pizza in the middle of our table. “I’ll be right back with some refills. Y’all need anything else?”
“No,” Crew replies, his eyes still locked on mine.
“Looks good.” I serve myself a piece and then hand the spatula to him. “Here you go,” I say, as chipper and unaffected as I possibly can.
He takes it, his fingers brushing over mine. I swear from the smirk he’s wearing that he did it on purpose. I let go and resume eating.
“When’s your last day at Coffee House?” he asks.
I swallow my bite of pizza. “I actually meant to tell you. One of the girls wanted the hours, so this is my last week.” I don’t know if he can sense my unease, but the rest of the meal the conversation is focused on the club and what’s to come. I’m grateful that the topic remains neutral. Work I can discuss.
“Can I get you all any dessert?” the waitress asks.
Crew looks to me. “No, thank you.” I push my plate away. I’ve already eaten too much.
“Just the check,” he tells her.
“All right, you all have a great night.” She lays the check on the table.
I reach into my purse and pull out my wallet.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asks.
“Getting some money.”
“Put it away.” He shakes his head.
“You don’t have to buy me dinner, Crew.”