Mordred had been in plenty of uncomfortable situations before. He'd been on red carpets, in front of flashing cameras, forced into suffocating conversations with people who only cared about his fame.
But this?
This was something else.
Nevaeh was staring at him. Not just a casual glance. Not just playful teasing.
It was intense.
And worse? She wasn't even hiding it.
Her eyes followed every movement he made, watching as he lifted his fork, as he chewed, as his lips pressed together between bites.
Mordred shifted uncomfortably, gripping his fork a little tighter.
"Can you stop?" he finally muttered.
"Stop what?" Nevaeh asked innocently, resting her chin on her hand.
"You know what."
Nevaeh smirked, her eyes flickering to his lips again. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Mordred exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus on his food. But the moment he took another bite, her gaze dropped to his lips again.
He nearly choked.
"Nevaeh." His voice came out tighter than he intended.
"Hmm?" she hummed, tilting her head like she wasn't deliberately making him lose his mind.
"Eat your damn food," he snapped.
She chuckled but finally picked up her fork. "Fine, fine."
Mordred took a deep breath, relieved that the staring contest was finally over.
Or so he thought.
Because not even a minute later, he caught her smirking at him, her gaze playful, her lips curving into something mischievous.
She was enjoying this.
Mordred clenched his jaw.
He was never having lunch with her again.
Mordred had barely managed to focus on eating with Nevaeh's intense gaze burning into him. But just as he thought he could get through the meal without further embarrassment, she did something completely unhinged.
Her fingers suddenly brushed against his lips.
Soft. Warm.
Mordred froze, his breath catching as her thumb slowly wiped a tiny smudge of butter from the corner of his mouth.
And before he could even react, she licked it off her finger.
Right in front of him.
His entire body tensed as he stared at her, his fork hovering mid-air. For a second, his brain refused to process what just happened.
"Did you just—"
"Hmm?" she interrupted, licking her lips slightly, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Mordred blinked. "Why the hell did you just lick that?"
Nevaeh smirked, leaning in slightly. "What? Did you want me to use my lips to take it off instead?"
Mordred's jaw clenched.
"I would have done it," she continued, voice playful, "but we're not alone in this restaurant."
Mordred just stared at her, at a complete loss for words.
What kind of psychopath was this woman?
"Damn, you're insane," he muttered, shaking his head.
Nevaeh only grinned, completely unbothered. "I prefer 'bold.'"
Mordred shoved a piece of food into his mouth, chewing aggressively to distract himself.
He was never having lunch with her again.
…Except, a small part of him knew that was a lie.
Mordred wasn't stupid.
He knew exactly what Nevaeh was doing. The teasing. The flirting. The way she looked at him like she was waiting for him to break.
Normally, he wouldn't give this kind of woman a second thought.
If it were any other fan, any other reporter, any other supermodel trying to seduce him, he would have dismissed them instantly.
But with her?
He didn't.
Instead, he let her get away with things no one else could.
He let her stare at him while he ate.
He let her wipe something off his lips.
He let her lick it off her finger without snapping at her.
And the worst part?
He didn't even mind.
Mordred didn't understand why.
Maybe it was because she was different from the women who threw themselves at him. She didn't want anything from him—at least, not in the way others did.
Maybe it was because she had audacity.
Maybe it was because, unlike everyone else, she wasn't afraid of him.
Or maybe… just maybe…
It was because she made him feel something he hadn't felt in a long time.
Curious.
Still, he wasn't about to admit that out loud.
So instead, he just scoffed, shaking his head as she gave him another playful smirk.
"You're impossible," he muttered.
"And yet, you're still here," she shot back smoothly.
Mordred had no response to that.
Because, damn it, she was right.