“He’s just a boy,” I assure, needing to make our lack of association known.
“Who’s a friend,” Nate finishes dryly, hands weaseling their way into his pockets.
“More like an acquaintance,” I correct.
“Don’t you think we’re well past the point of acquainted?”
I glare in his direction. “We’refamiliar—at best.”
Phil cuts through my death stare with a wave of his hand. “Oh, you guys, there’s no need to bicker! All friends turn into lovers eventually, which means I’m the one who’s right.”
I choke up at his words, trying my hardest not to say anything unnecessary to a man I respect so deeply. But it’s the moment he moves that my mind spirals into full-blown panic.
I latch onto his wrist, tugging him back.
“Please don’t leave me alone with him,” I whisper before turning back to Nate, who seems unimpressed. “He brings mereallybad luck.” I try to reason with Phil just as he lets out a rich belly laugh and walks to the front of the shop, like my words mean nothing.
My shoulders slump in defeat.
What have I done to deserve this?
“How’s the coffee?” Nate nods in the direction of my cup.
“Cold and bad now that you’re here,” I grumble under my breath.
The interaction hasn’t even started, and I’m already looking forward to its end.
Movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I shift my gaze involuntarily toward him. He props himself up against the counter—one foot lazily crossed over the other, like he owns the place—but it’s the second he folds his arms over his chest that I know it’s game over.
My goal was to ignore his presence and act like he didn’t exist, but it’s hard when he takes up so much room.
I shamelessly admire the enemy for the third time in a row, lingering a little too long on the exposed forearms riddled with veins and his bulging biceps.
For the sake of my sanity, I’d like to believe he buys his shirts one size too small to come off stronger than he is, but anyone with two eyes can tell that’s far from the truth.
He puts in the work, and it shows.
A slow smile creeps up the corners of his mouth, causing his dimples to grace his annoyingly beautiful face.
“Why are you smiling? You should be highly offended by my comment.”
“Have you not noticed anything different?” He motions to my hands.
I glance down at the coffee cup, whose heat seeps through the cardboard, and wince at the burning sensation in my palm. I’m about to switch it from one hand to the other when I catch Nate’s eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Please enlighten me. What is it that you find so funny?”
He shakes his head in disbelief, taking a step forward while I take one back. The cool metal of the kitchen counter presses against my lower back—a stark contrast to the heat spreading through my body.
“I don’t bite.” Nate raises his hands in defense.
The assurance does little to calm my unease and only multiplies when a pair of hands wraps around my cup—one touching the hot cardboard and the other covering mine.
“Have you ever heard of the second law of thermodynamics?” he asks, a little too smug for my liking.
I glare up at him in annoyance. “Of course I have. I’m a scientist.”
“Would you like to define it for me?” He quirks a brow.
