Collide (Collide #1)(58)

"You've admitted that you wanted to kiss me. It was more than obvious that I wanted to kiss you. Now we can put it behind us and be friends."

"That simple, huh?"

"That simple," he replied with a smile though he heard the lack of determination behind his words. "Now sit back down and finish your cup of coffee with your new friend."

"You're a demanding friend, I see," she quipped, grabbing for her purse. "But, really, I should get going. Dillon's at my apartment waiting for me."

Gavin glanced at his watch. "You gave me five minutes. I still have another two left."

"Are you kidding me?" she laughed.

He sat back down, took a sip of his coffee, and smiled. "What's with all of these questions, friend?"

"I'll say it again like I did at your house," she replied as she settled back into her seat. "You're truly a wiseass."

"Certified," he laughed. "So how've you been?"

"I've been better, and I've been worse."

"Okay, so that's not necessarily a bad thing then."

"That you're correct about."

"Very good." He smiled. "So tell me something about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

Anything. Everything. Why'd you take him back? He thought to himself. Sliding his hand through his hair, he shrugged. "What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?"

"Vanilla. And yours?"

"I dig vanilla, too, but I'm really a chocolate type of guy," he answered, watching the way she nervously shifted in her seat.

As a long silence descended across the table - during which Gavin gave her another one of those intensely searching looks - Emily noticed the way he pressed his lips together as though to stop himself from asking her something that he truly wanted to know.

"So what's your favorite color?" he finally asked.

"Gavin, can I ask you a question?"

"Anything you want."

"What are we doing?"

"We're playing fifty questions," he laughed.

"No, we're not. What do you really want to ask me?"

Drawing up a brow, he leaned back and propped his hands behind his neck. "Mmm, you're good at reading me." He watched her for a few more seconds, studying every beautiful curve of her face. "I've been told I'm hard to figure out, and this, of course, comes from people who have known me far longer than you have."

"I find you pretty easy to read." And she did. Although he kept certain aspects of his life guarded, he was an open book in her eyes. She took a sip of her coffee. "So shoot - what is it that you really want to know?"

He contemplated her for a moment. "Are you happy with Dillon, Emily?"

She bit her lip nervously. "Why do you want to know this?"

"We're friends, and friends ask questions. And, besides, you're the one who asked, don't forget."

"Right, I did." She looked down to her hands and then back to Gavin. "Yes, I'm happy with him."

Placing his elbow on the table, he pressed his chin against the palm of his hand. "Why?"

Her brows knitted together. "What do you mean why?"

"Give me the specifics." He shrugged. "Why does he make you happy?"

She stared at him, her eyes intense, but the vibration of her phone going off broke her from his gaze.

As she answered the call, Gavin leaned back in his seat and watched her. He knew he might have crossed the line asking such a personal question, but he was unable to fight his instinct in not doing so. He had spoken with Dillon the night he left her apartment, and although he allowed Dillon to think he believed his story, he didn't - not even close. He knew his friend all too well. The only question racing through Gavin's mind was why Emily had fallen for it.