The heat was miserable.
I like fall. I mean, who doesn’t? It’s grey sweatpants season.
Plus, it brings cozy sweaters, Wildcat football, and pumpkin everything.
I take a sip of my latte, savoring the chocolate coffee goodness, before pushing it aside and pulling out a notebook and pen.
Jot down five good ideas, and then you can have the muffin as a reward.
That’s what I told myself when I ordered, but now it’s right there on the table, the familiar scent of pumpkin calling to me like a siren.
Just one little nibble…
I break off a Hulk-sized bite and pop it in my mouth, chewing slowly. Because it’s amazing, not because I’m procrastineating.
“Can we drop our bags while we order?” Noah’s voice cuts through my carb bliss before I can even swallow. He doesn’t wait for a reply. Just thunks his bag down on the bench across from me. I glance up, pissy sibling glare fully activated, and lock eyes with Cooper.
Because of course I do.
It’s been a little over two weeks since he tucked me in, and in that time, he’s gotten even hotter. How is that even possible? His hair is a little longer, and a lot shaggier, but it suits him. As does the scruff lining his chiseled jaw.
Hell, maybe it’s just the glow of a 4-0 record. The Wildcats are undefeated coming off their first conference game against Iowa. It was a close game, and I may have screamed at the television once or thirty times last weekend, but Coop played well, pulling down passes the broadcasters deemed impossible.
Which totally explains his over-inflated ego.
“You know my sister, right?” Noah grins and ruffles my hair like I’m five freaking years old. “Calamity Quinn.”
Heat floods my cheeks and I chew viciously, trying not to choke on the fluffy carbs before I can kill my brother. I’m sure my parents won’t miss him.Much.
“That seat’s taken,” I say, crossing my fingers under the table. Any conversation that involves Noah, Cooper, and I can’t possibly end well. “Sorry.”
Another lie.
It’s a miracle Coop hasn’t told Noah about Operation Spontaneous Hookup, and I’m not about to press my luck now.
“Really?” Noah asks, not bothering to mask his doubt. Like it’s so hard to believe I’m meeting someone for coffee.
Coop smirks and shakes his head, shoulders trembling with silent laughter.
Jerk.
“Who are you meeting?” Noah widens his stance and glances around the café. “Anyone I know?”
“Nope.”
Coop smiles, that sexy ass grin of his extending all the way to his eyes. “Please tell me you haven’t added blind dates to your playbook.”
“What playbook?” Noah turns back to me, suspicion darkening his features. “You haven’t played sports a day in your life.”
“There’s no playbook.” I roll my eyes and hook a thumb toward Cooper. “You know he took some nasty hits during the Iowa game, right? His brains are probably scrambled.”
Noah gives me a WTF look and glances at Coop, no doubt calculating the odds that I’ve offended hisbrother.
“Besides, even if I was on a blind date, it’s no one’s business but my own.”
“Beg to differ,” Noah says at the same time Coop blurts, “Bullshit.”
I groan and tip my head to the sky. This cannot be happening.
