Billie.
I can't eat.
Or at least, not properly.
Not with Lexus watching me like that.
I grip my fork, focusing on my plate, forcing myself to chew. I pretend his gaze isn't burning through my skin, pretend I don't notice the way he's leaned back in his chair, one arm draped over the backrest, his expression a mix of amusement and something dangerous.
I finally exhale. "Lexus, stop staring."
He smirks. "I can't help it. You're hotter than the lasagna."
I sit naked across from me is my husband. Yap! That's what you get for losing your own game.
I roll my eyes, stuffing another bite into my mouth. Ignore him, Billie.
A few more minutes pass. We finish eating. I relax. Maybe—just maybe—he's done teasing me for tonight.
Then he stands.
I brace myself. He's going to say something dirty. I just know it.
But he doesn't.
Instead—
CRASH.
