His eyebrows lift, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m what?”
My face heats. “Nothing.”
“Tessa.”
“It’s nothing.”
“You were going to say something.” He’s full-on grinning now, clearly enjoying this. “Come on. What were you going to say?”
I blow out a breath. “Fine. Your hair is always still wet when you come in. So I figured you’d just gotten out of the shower.”
His grin turns downright smug. “Oh really?”
“Don’t,” I warn.
“You’ve been noticing my wet hair?”
“I notice a lot of things about a lot of people. It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s a little bit of a big deal,” he teases. “You’ve been checking out my hair.”
“I have not been checking out your hair.”
“You literally just admitted you notice it every time I come in.”
My cheeks are on fire now. “Can we move past this?”
“Absolutely not.” He takes another sip of his latte, clearly savoring this moment. “This is the best part of my day.”
“Making me uncomfortable?”
“No,” he says, his voice softening just slightly. “Talking to you.”
The air between us shifts. Something heavier settles in, something I don’t know how to name.
“I should get back to work,” I say quietly.
“Yeah.” He doesn’t move right away. Just stands there, holding my gaze. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Tessa.”
“See you tomorrow, Logan.”
He grabs his coffee and heads for the door. But before he steps outside, he glances back over his shoulder, catching me watching him.
That stupid grin returns.
I look away fast, busying myself with wiping down the already clean counter.
But I’m smiling.
And for the first time in a long time, I feel something close to alive.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
LOGAN
The coffee shop is busier than usual when I walk in. A line of customers snakes away from the counter, and I can see Tessa moving quickly behind the espresso machine, her hands working with practiced efficiency. There’s another woman beside her—blond, curvy, with an easy smile as she takes orders.
