“You startled me,” I said, tucking a stray blonde strand behind my ear.
“Sorry,” he said, sliding into the seat across from me. “Didn’t want to interrupt. You were in the zone.”
I laughed softly. “It happens.”
His eyes drifted to my sketchbook . . . then froze.
“El,” he breathed, “this is . . . wow.”
“You think so?”
He didn’t look away from the page. “It’s fierce. And sweet. And brave. And her expression—” he traced the drawing in the air “—that’s you.”
Heat pooled in my cheeks. “Is that . . . good?”
He lifted his eyes to mine. “It’s the best.”
My heart fluttered in that new, terrifying, wonderful way.
He took a sip of his coffee, still looking a little flushed.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “I . . . didn’t have Leo today.”
I blinked. “Oh. It’s Becca’s night?”
He nodded, a shy smile tugging at his mouth. “Yeah. So I didn’t need to be here.”
He hesitated, then added quietly, “I came anyway.”
My breath caught.
“You . . . came just to see me?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish and devastatingly charming. “Yeah. I guess I did.”
Oh.
Oh.
“Alex,” I whispered, warmth flooding through me.
He cleared his throat, embarrassed in the cutest way possible. “Don’t make it weird.”
“I’m not!” I said, grinning. “It’s just . . . unexpectedly sweet.”
His shoulders relaxed a little. “Good.”
We sat there smiling like two teenagers passing notes in homeroom until Belle slammed a tray of muffins onto the counter and shouted, “If you two don’t stop flirting, I’m charging rent for that table! But I can't be too mad since you talked our girl into becoming a Reaper.”
We both startled.
Alex choked on his coffee.
I bit back a laugh.
When Belle returned to her espresso machine, muttering about “idiots in love,”
Alex leaned in slightly. “You told her you’re trying out? For the Reapers?”
