“Harpa, my princess!” The man’s Brooklyn accent boomed through the deli. He shuffled between the counters and moved toward them, wrapping Harper in a hug. “How ya doin’， sweetie?”
Before giving her pause to answer, he turned to size up Dan.
“Who’s the goy?” he asked sharply. The mood took a sharp left turn and landed somewhere between meet-the-father and overly-protective-uncle territory. Dan was glad there weren’t any shotguns mounted on the walls as Martin continued to stare at him.
“Martin, this is my…” Harper paused and gave Dan a searching glance. “… friend. My friend Dan. We go to school together.”
“Nice to meet you,” Dan said, stretching out his hand. Martin shot him a skeptical look before returning the shake, squeezing harder than was necessary. Dan squeezed back.
Dan glanced over at Harper and caught her staring, slightly slack-jawed, at his forearm. He flexed—inadvertently of course—and felt a primitive thrill when her eyes widened. Interesting.
As if sensing him looking at her, Harper’s gaze shot to Dan’s face. Busted and guilty, Dan dropped Martin’s hand and pretended to study the menu.
“The usual, dollface?” Martin asked, moving back behind the counter.
“Yes, please. With extra Russian dressing.”
Martin winked at Harper and turned an expectant stare to Dan, who was only one column through the ridiculously extensive menu.
“I’ll do the Slammer,” Dan said, choosing the first thing his eyes landed on. Martin nodded and slapped the giant sandwiches together with surprising speed. Dan pulled out his wallet as Martin set their meals on the counter, but the man stopped him with a raised hand.
“Harpa eats free. So do her … friends,” Martin said, giving Dan another skeptical sweep up and down.
“I insist.” Dan handed over his credit card.
Martin gave him a thoughtful look then nodded, taking the card and ringing him up.
“You didn’t need to do that,” Harper said, turning to Dan.
He shrugged. “Want and need rarely line up,” he said with a wink. Color exploded on her cheeks, and she swallowed.
“Well, thank you.”
Harper stared at him a moment longer before awkwardly reaching up and patting his shoulder. He fought back a grin as she cringed and jerked her hand away. She snatched up the sandwiches and darted to a table in the back while Dan finished with the receipt.
When he looked up, Martin was glaring at him. They stared at each other for a moment, a healthy dose of fear trickling down Dan’s spine.
“Don’t try anything smart,” Martin said at last, his eyes flicking to Harper for a second before he turned and lumbered off, leaving Dan nodding foolishly in his wake.
CHAPTER 6
HARPER
Harper wondered which was the best way to request they eat at different tables. It was either that or rub her face against the deli slicer to put an end to the torture. Those were the only two solutions she could think of that would save her heart from the lethal dose of adrenaline and estrogen that pumped through her every time Dan said something. Or looked at her. Or blinked, for fuck’s sake.
She went into rationalization mode: So she had a crush. A huge, throbbing, gut-punch crush. Big deal. Crushes were fine. Crushes could be crushed down with enough willpower and mental stamina. She had those two things in spades. For example, she’d shown an exorbitant amount of willpower when she hadn’t run her teeth over Dan’s forearm like a feral animal while he shook Martin’s hand.
As Dan sauntered toward the table with drinks—of course he sauntered, heaven forbid he walk like a normal human instead of each step being adjacent to soft-core porn—Harper readied her nerves. She could do this. She could sit and have a normal conversation with him. She had years of pretending like everything was fine while anxiety melted her insides to pieces.
He sat, and she handed over his sandwich.
“Are you a religious man, Dan?” Harper asked, before releasing her grip on the food.
“Not particularly,” he replied with a wary look. “Why?”
“Because that first bite is going to be a spiritual experience.”
“Yeah?” He started unwrapping the sandwich.
“Just your typical soul ascension. Heavens parting. Angels singing. Nothing too dramatic. I don’t want to oversell it.”
Dan laughed, and she smiled back at him. A comfortable rhythm was settling between them, and her heartbeat was returning to an almost human level. Even her lusty sweats were drying. She could so do this. Her chances of surviving the night without a heart attack were increasing every second.