Bewitched (EBOOK)

“You know what I drink?”
He knew a lot about her—too much considering he’d spent the better part of a year building his shield against her. He knew what she drank. He knew that she was a good friend, that her ass was incredible and frequently featured in tight skirts. He knew that she ate too much junk food and that if he’d ordered a salad, she wouldn’t touch it, but that she would deign to eat the fruit in the name of something healthy.
But he couldn’t reveal any of that, could he?
So, he just said, “I’ve hung out with you, Hazel, Pru, and company enough. I know what you all drink.”
That dropped her brows, though a thoughtful expression took the place of her surprise. “Right,” she whispered.
They sat in silence—or rather, he sat in silence—as they waited for her food to come. She prattled on about some TV show the girls were trying to get the guys to watch (but had so far been unsuccessful) and when he didn’t bite, she moved on to discussing the team. That was a more interesting conversation—hockey was easy. Hockey made sense. But he couldn’t bring himself to do more than sit silently next to her.
That was all he had in him.
Thankfully, her food eventually came and because he was sitting next to her and couldn’t resist the crispy golden brown deliciousness, he stole a mozzarella stick with the lightning-fast reflexes of a professional hockey player, earning a glare in return for his antics, though she didn’t comment.
And eventually, she wore him down.
He found himself joining in her conversation, not just listening to her talk at him, biting back his chuckles at her funny quips and stories and antics, but actually talking.
Somehow, actually enjoying himself.
And paying for her meal before she could, even though that sent her back to glaring.
For a few moments anyway.
Because then she murmured a “thank you” that he felt deep behind his shield and went back to regaling him with her stories and quick one-liners.
Then the plates were empty, and she was yawning, telling him she should head home.
He stood, put out an arm to help her down from her stool.
Touching. Again.
His fingers tingling. His nerves prickling. His dick—
“And I—”
She broke off, her face going pale the moment her feet hit the floor.
“Beth?” he asked, reaching out with his other arm, wrapping it around her when she wavered.
“What’s—”
She took a step.
Her eyes rolled back.
And…she collapsed.