Hit the Spot - Page 92/125

Fuck it. Whatever it was, I was so fucking deep at this point, she could plot to have my ass killed and I’d give her a pass.

Tori heard me promise this, looked at me, nodded, then closed her eyes again, so tight this time it made little wrinkles pop out next to them. “Up until very recently, I’ve been having Stitch do stuff to your food,” she admitted.

Immediately, I started grinning. Not smiling. Fucking grinning. And not knowing when Tori would open her eyes again, I held that grin for a breath and then wiped it clean from my face.

“I was trying to get you to stop coming to Whitecaps,” she continued, eyes still pinching shut. “And I thought maybe if you got sick from the food, you’d stop coming, but then you weren’t getting sick and so I just kept doing it out of spite and ’cause I liked you but I didn’t want to like you. Same with messing up your order all the time. It was stupid and childish and I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.” She peeked one eye open, then the other. “I’m really sorry, Jamie,” she repeated, shifting closer again. “I don’t think he was doing anything besides dropping it on the floor for five seconds. Honest. I think that was it. I had Syd requesting it, too, but then she started liking you and wanting us to be together, and I think she stopped requesting it once that happened. But every time I waited on you, I would do it.” She brought her hands up to my shoulders, my neck. She leaned her face an inch away from mine. “I know I’ve probably messed this up,” she continued, voice trembling. “You have every right to be mad and hate me and—”

Not being able to hold it in any longer, I dropped my head back and roared with laughter.

“Um, Jamie?” Tori’s hands put pressure on my chest.

“Nine months,” I choked out, eyes watering so bad I had to wipe underneath one. “Nine fuckin’ months I’ve been eatin’ food that’s been dropped on that dirty-ass floor and you’ve been arrangin’ that? Are you fuckin’ with me?”

Tori’s brows drew together. “No,” she whispered. “I’m not fucking with you. I did that. I arranged it. It was called the Loser Special. That was my idea, too.”

I burst out laughing again, propping my elbow on the table and sticking my face in my hand.

The Loser Special?

This was fucking fantastic.

“Jesus,” I mumbled, wiping underneath my eyes again. “Even had a name for it. Goddamn, babe.”

“I don’t understand how you’re reacting right now,” Tori said, her voice soft and worry-filled.

Hearing her and the stress in her tone, I tilted my head, lifted it, and looked into her face. She wasn’t crying, but she didn’t look far from it.

“Legs,” I murmured through a laugh, lowering my hand to the table. “What the fuck?”

“You’re laughing,” she whispered. “You’re laughing and you should hate me.”

“Why the fuck should I hate you?”

“’Cause I was awful. I’ve been awful. I’ve done awful things.”

“Could’ve found out about that months ago. And you could’ve kept doin’ it. Straight up? Wouldn’t have mattered. I still would’ve been showin’ up and lickin’ my fuckin’ plate clean.” I flashed her a smile, laughing still. “Jesus,” I mumbled. “You think I’m gonna hate you after hearin’ that? Do you know what you just gave me?”

“I just admitted to messing with your food and enlisting other people to help me do it,” she replied.

“You just admitted to wantin’ me so bad, you knew the only way we weren’t gonna happen was if you fuckin’ killed me,” I returned, reaching around her, grabbing hold of her hips, and sliding her closer until her ass was pressing against my thigh again. I leaned in, getting in her face. “You’re right about that, babe. I’d have to be dead.”

The corner of Tori’s mouth lifted. She shook her head and lowered her eyes. “I never wanted to kill you,” she argued quietly. “I wasn’t even fully committed to not liking you. I pretty much sucked at it.” Her eyes found mine again, then she reached out and held my face between her hands. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, all sorts of meaning in her voice.

“Know you are, babe,” I murmured. “Don’t need to be, but I feel that.”

“I still think you should hate me. Even if it’s just for an hour.”

“I’ve never loved you more than I do right fuckin’ now,” I shared. “And that’s saying a lot, ’cause ten minutes ago I was crazy about you.”

Tori sucked in the quickest, quietest breath. Her eyes were wide. Her lips were pressing together. She looked stuck somewhere between crying her eyes out and putting on the biggest smile of her life.

I grinned, unable to help it. “You fuckin’ love me, girl. Look at you,” I murmured, wiping my thumb across her cheek.

Tori blinked and allowed her lips to curl, then she let go of my face, twisted her upper body, grabbed her silverware, forked three squares of pancakes, and shoved them into her mouth, mumbling two words around her bite.

“So much.”

Chapter Nineteen

TORI

Three days later

You win yet?

I sent my message, then glanced up at Nate’s office door. It was still closed, so I looked down again, keeping focus on my phone while I stood behind the bar at Whitecaps.