I’m not, but I don’t want him to think I’m at home pining over him.
“Yes, I am.”
His eyes come to me, and his jaw ticks as if he’s angered. “Where are you going?”
“Out to dinner with Molly and Aaron.”
“Who’s Aaron?”
“My friend I work with, the one who sits next to me. He’s gay.”
“Oh.” He cuts into his toast, mollified for the moment.
I watch him for a moment as he eats in silence. “Would it bother you if I were going clubbing?”
He sips his coffee, stalling for his answer. “Well, if your performance from last weekend is anything to go by, yes, it would.”
I smile softly. “What?”
“Nothing.” I shrug; I like that it bothers him.
He rubs his hand up my bare thigh and leans over to kiss my cheek. “I’m not sharing with you. I don’t want you dancing with anybody.”
I smile and rub my han
