Her mother saves me from having to argue anymore.
Memories of the last time I spent the night on their couch have my back aching. My room at the inn is already paid for and I politely but firmly decline Felicity’s offer to spend the night. Unlike her daughter she praises the man willing to work on my car for free.
“Is he cute?” Felicity asks as Amber rolls her eyes.
“Ruggedly handsome with kind eyes.”
“Average,” Amber mutters.
“Jealous,” I whisper back.
She sighs, her eyes rolling one more time before her face finally breaks into a smile.
“A little. He didn’t evenlookat me.”
“That wasn’t very nice of him,” I admit even though it thrilled me to watch him reject her advances.
Guys in college always liked talking to Amber. She was more outgoing, better at flirting, and open to casual relationships. They flocked to her. Reid though? He didn’t spare her a glance. Having his full attention was the biggest turn on. I couldn’t sit still. The looks he was sending my way had me dripping wet, and rubbing my thighs together did nothing to soothe my aching core.
“He thinks my name is Ashley,” Amber tells her mother. “The man didn’t listen to a word I said. Hopefully, he’s better at fixing cars.”
Felicity shoots me a sly glance, and I turn my head to hide my blush. We might only see each other once or twice a year, but she knows me too well.
“I don’t want to keep him waiting. He’s already at the coffee shop.”
“Go have your coffee,” Amber ushers me to the door. “Call me later if something naughty happens.”
Reid
By the time I reachPerfect Brews, I’ve convinced myself she’s not coming.
I claimed a booth in the corner, ordered a coffee I barely tasted, and tried not to imagine the dozen ways a college grad with her entire life ahead of her might talk herself out of meeting a man like me.
But then the bell over the door rings, and she walks in.
Her blond curls are tucked neatly into her hat, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes sweeping the room until they land on me. A small smile lifts her lips.
I rise before she reaches the table.
“You came,” I say.
“Of course I did.” She sounds breathless. Or maybe I’m imagining it.
I gesture for her to sit, but she shakes her head.
“I’m going to order something first. They have the best pain au chocolat in the state.”
“I’ll get it.”
“I can do it,” she protests but her smile brightens when I insist.
Glancing back while I wait on her order, I see the way she fidgets nervously with her mittens. She bites her lip when she catches me staring.
When I finally come back with a latte and her pastry, her breath hitches.
Good.
I want her flustered. I want her aware of me.
