Cole’s shoulders shake with an amused huff. “Yeah, that would be awesome.”
His expression shutters. A pang echoes in my chest at the flash of uncertainty, wishing I had some way to take it away for him as easily as he’s done for me recently.
Hammy butts Cole’s hand to ask for more petting. I get the jar of treats we keep behind the bar for customers to give to him when he begs and offer it to Cole with a shake. He shoots me a soft smile.
“We’ll see,” he says. “Until then, there’s this guy.”
Hammy’s body wriggles under his attention. He gobbles down the treats he’s presented and plants himself by his new best friend when Cole sits.
Benson finishes his drink and heads to the back office.
“Your food’s getting cold.” I steal one of his fries. “Eat this.”
“But look at his face.” He gestures to what I like to call Hammy’s seal eyes—big, round, adorable.
“I know, he’s hard to resist. Just looking at him gives me a boost. It’s free serotonin.”
Lainey Boucher comes through the entrance with an armful of books. Snowflakes melt in the loose strands of dark blonde hair that fall from her ponytail to frame her face. She nudges her slightly fogged glasses up the bridge of her nose. She looksjust like her twin brother, though Theo carries himself more confidently.
“Hey, Lainey.”
“Hi,” she mumbles quickly.
She’s super shy when there are too many people, but we bond over romance books when it’s quiet.
“There’s plenty of open booths to chill in today,” I point out.
“Great.”
She goes to the far corner. The dog follows her, laying at her feet under the booth while she takes out her laptop and bends over a notebook. Whatever she’s working on has her completely absorbed.
“Now you can eat your food without guilt,” I tell Cole.
He smirks, spinning the basket so the fries are closer to me as he picks up his burger. I resist for a moment, then snag another fry.
During another lull not long after, I check my phone. I don’t mean to, but I open the Love Struck app. The match screen with Cole is becoming way too familiar when it pops up.
I freeze, checking to see if it notified him. His phone lights up on the bar. He lifts a brow, tapping the notification.
A beat later, his gaze finds mine.
Damn it.
How many times has this been now? Three? Four? I’m losing count.
It wouldn’t keep happening if I could stop myself from downloading it to my phone rather than leave it deleted. Every time I do, it takes my profile off of hiatus and treats it like a clean slate.
My thumb hovers over the options. He remains silent. I feel the weight of his observation.
Neither of us say anything while I quickly select unmatch and set my phone face down on the bar. I don’t touch it for the rest of my shift.
TEN
COLE
On Christmas,I don’t have anyone else to celebrate with. Rather than sit around my apartment alone, I spend it with the Lombards.
Yesterday, before joining them for the annual Christmas Eve pizza and beer night that they’ve hosted for as long as I can remember, I FaceTimed my parents to catch up while their cruise was at port. They’re thoroughly enjoying the traveling they’ve been doing more and more since I graduated and moved out.
