Moonstar

You and Me - Lifehouse

"Apollo."

From ducking into the backseat, he straightens and turns to face me as I lean my back against the side of his car. "Yeah?"

"No," I say without batting a lash, my arms cross over my chest, boots plant steady on the ground.

"You said you wanted lunch." He slings a large blue gym bag across his body, gripping the strap with one hand and locking the car with the other. He pockets his key and keeps his hand there. "Come on. They serve the best wellington in this side of London."

I tsk, shaking my head with deadpan expression. "I'm offended for Chef Gordon."

"This side of of London," he reiterates.

I watch him take a few strides, greeting and nodding to posh people, broad and tall frame in light blue coat and coffee chinos and designer shoes, perfect posture and long, sure strides, until he notices my absence. Turning back, he sighs at my unmoving self. He retraces his footsteps until he's looming in front of me. The elegant structure of an exclusive polo club and chicly dressed club members getting out of their expensive cars and walking across the parking lot in their designer shoes become his backdrop and I suck in a steadying breath at the sight. This is Apollo in his natural habitat.

The little shit really brought me to this place. When I said I wanted to eat lunch, I was thinking greasy burgers and chips or crispy pata if we're lucky to stumble upon a random Filipino restaurant. Not a fancy members-only polo club.

"Luna."

"I don't belong in this place," I say matter-of-factly, ignoring the way I'm tilting my head so our eyes meet. With my five-foot-three height, I look like a dwarf next to him.

He cocks his head while staring down at me, eyes flashing with disagreement at my statement. "Everyone belongs in whatever place they decide they belong in," he rebuts, his gaze unwavering, voice smooth and sexy as silk.

Sexy? Ugh.

"You don't need to be philosophical with me, A." I roll my eyes. "Just look at me and tell me the receptionists won't raise bitchy brows and look me up and down with condescending eyes," I challenge, waving a hand down my frame before crossing my arms over my chest again. Old concert shirt turned into a muscle tee, plain black leggings, dirty boots, and a cheap coat.

Indulging me, he rakes me with those green eyes. From my face down my neck where my pulse stutters and blood rises to the surface, then focusing on the Radiohead print across my chest before diving down and down still until he reaches my feet. I fight the urge to squirm under his close and meticulous scrutiny as his gaze travels back up, licking me with those eyes that seem to turn darker and darker with every tick of my wrist watch. When they finally settle and lock onto mine again, the only greens left are two thin rings outlining dilated pupils. He sucks in air and when he expels, it fans down the lower half of my face and down my burning neck.

A tremor rushes down my spine, ending in a delicious clench at my core.

Shit.

I quickly pull my gaze away from him and look at something past his shoulder but not really seeing anything. My mind is fuzzy and I'm getting wet. Again. The first time I felt dampness between my legs being only hours ago inside his car.

What the hell is happening to me? I count the days since the last time I've had something fill and stretch me. Over a week. Days before I caught Kai cheating on me. Maybe I'm just all worked up from not getting some dick for too long that I'm getting horny with merely a look from Apollo. My best friend who's two years younger than me and I only reunited with days ago, Apollo.