Beta: Fran
Prereaders: Jill, Ariel, and Pearly
My heart: Yours
Things I don't own: Twilight or the FBI-
43-
"Well?" Angela waves her chopsticks at me, her full lips spreading into a smile.
"Well, what?" I ask, shoving another crab rangoon into my mouth whole and watching Angela's nose wrinkle in disgust.
"First of all, don't do that, or she'll never go on a second date with you."
"Whuuh?" I ask through a mouthful of delicious, fried goodness.
"Gross, Cullen," she fakes a gag. "Women, and by that, I mean every damn one of us, whether we date you or not, don't want to see you eat like a pig."
I make a show of swallowing the masticated bits, smirking in that way that makes everyone but Angela Weber drop their panties for me and throw her a wink.
"It only showcases how big my mouth is. And big mouths do big things."
"You definitely have a big mouth," she grumbles, slamming the now empty carton on my desk.
Make no mistake, Weber may have a body that kills underneath all those uniforms and stuffy work clothes, but she could out-eat any man.
"Anyway," she announces overdramatically. "What I was going to say is that you need to call her."
"Right now?" I can actually feel my forehead creasing when I raise my brows.
"Right now."
"But…"
"No buts."
"Fuck…"
"I thought we already went over the fact that that's off the table."
