Spark (Heat #2)(6)

"You f*cked me so hard I can't think straight." I tap my fingers on my forehead. "What is this food that you speak of?"

"That's why I can't go three straight days without you. I was craving your body." He picks up his phone from the nightstand. "I can order something in."

"I almost always eat in. Do you ever eat out?"

He cocks a brow as a smile pulls on the corners of his mouth. "Did you say you want me to eat you out? Can I at least eat an apple before I go down on you again?"

I pull the sheet tighter around me. "Who knew you had a sense of humor?"

"I wasn't kidding." He looks down as he glides his fingers over the screen of his phone. "I could eat your * all night but I'm starving right now."

"I'm hungry too," I confess. "I could go for Italian. What about you?"

"Great culinary minds think alike." The faint chime of a bell drops his gaze back to his phone. "I know someone at Magari. I just sent them a text. They can seat us in an hour. Can you be ready by then?"

I immediately regret not suggesting we go to my place so I can cook for him. I can't go to Magari. I also can't tell him why. I'm not ready to have that conversation with him. "I'd rather cook for you. Why don't we go back to my place?"

"The food at Magari is stellar. Have you ever been?"

Time and time again and then some.

Magari rivals Nova when it comes to delicious cuisine. It's a small restaurant that caters to those who want an intimate dining experience. It only seats thirty-six people for dinner service. The fact that Tyler scored us a table on such short notice is unheard of. I know, from personal experience, that the wait list is longer than it was for Nova. If you get to sample Magari once, you're going to want to dine there again. It's an addictive experience.

"I've been," I say honestly. "I don't feel like going there tonight."

That stops him cold. He holds tightly to a pair of black boxer briefs that he just pulled out of the top drawer of his dresser. His hair is a mess, his face and chest still flushed. "Why not?"

I didn't expect a push back. I know that I can't keep dancing around my past if we're going to build on what's happening between us. I also know that I'm not ready to tell Tyler about Magari and if we walk in there together tonight, someone else will do that for me.

"I'd rather we go back to my place. I've been working on a new recipe. I want you to taste it," I say as I watch him put on the boxers.

He raises both arms in the air before he rests his hands on the back of his head. The position makes him look imposing and intimidating. "I don't know a chef in this city who would turn down a chance to eat at Magari. Did you work there? Is that why you don't want to go?"

"No, I've never worked there. I'm just not in the mood to eat there tonight."

"Were you involved with someone who works there?"

"What do you mean?" I bend my legs, pulling my knees to my chest, circling my arms around them.

He flexes his biceps before he drops his arms. "You know what I mean, Cadence. Have you f*cked someone who works at Magari?"

I suck in a quick breath, shocked that he's being so blunt. "Why would you ask me that?"

"So you did?" His shoulders tense, his posture shifting. "Who was it? I know a senior chef there. Was it him? You f*cked Drew?"

"No." I sigh. "You've got it all wrong."

"So it wasn't Drew?" He pushes. "Who was it? Tell me his name."

I stare up at him. His jaw is tight, his hands fisted. He's frustrated. I am too. "I can't believe we're having this discussion, Tyler."

I honestly can't. Who the hell does he think he is? When he asked me about Brendon, I responded without thinking. I have nothing to hide when it comes to my sexual past. I haven't had many lovers, and I'm not ashamed of anything I've done, but I don't have to answer to him.

I can't help but feel as though he's judging me. I'm being persecuted for turning down a dinner invitation.

"We need to have this discussion, Cadence." He firms his stance. "I know a lot of people who work in the restaurant industry in this city. I'd rather not walk blindly into a situation where someone is going to bring up the fact that he's screwed my girlfriend."

I rear back on the bed. "What the hell, Tyler? Are you even listening to yourself? No one is going to tell you they screwed me."

"Brendon has. He did it the morning of the fire when he called me to talk about what a great lay you are." He raises a hand as if to silence me even though I'm not about to say anything in response to that. "I get that you met him before you met me, but it slays me that he's tasted you. I can't stand that he's heard you come. I want to kill that bastard when he talks about you."

"Brendon means nothing to me." I move to stand but I stop myself. "He's part of my past."

"He's not your past." He crosses his broad arms over his chest. "He wants you back. I don't f*cking blame him. How is a man supposed to give you up once he's had you?"

I close my eyes. "You have a past too, Tyler. You told me yourself that you've slept with women you worked with. It happens. "