“Who are you waiting for, love?”
“I’m not waiting for anyone! I’m chilling!”
“Okay, dear,” she says soothingly. She tells me I’ll get another cookie if I finish the Sudoku.
What kind of establishment is this? Bribing customers with cookies?
It works. I’m almost done with my grid when the door jingles again, and the air shifts.
It’s him. Caspian. He’s wearing a sports tee that shows off his arms. His lickable, scandalous arms. Christ, did I just go into heat?
His gray sweatpants have no regard for my well-being. His hair is damp, curling back in loose waves.
I almost swallow my tongue. Who knew sweat makes Caspian Stone glow?
I fidget with the pencil and watch him grab a water bottle from the cooler.
He says something that makes the glitter-earring women giggle.
I scowl behind the ficus . They need to stop. Caspian is not a public resource.
The one who bribed me whispers something to him.
Then she points at me.
No. No, thank you. This is not what I ordered. Why did I make such a stupid plan? Is it too late to run?
Madonna. This is psychological horror.
Caspian turns around, registering me sitting behind the ficus like some kind of paparazzi trainee .
He knows exactly why I’m here.
So much for subtlety.
Heat floods my body in one horrible, wonderful rush. My hands shake as I watch him pour himself a coffee, every movement unhurried and controlled.
He’s walking toward me now.
My stomach doesn’t flutter. It spasms.
Now that he knows, there’ll be consequences. Dangerous ones.
Like a—like a date.
When he’s almost at my table, I panic and snap my attention back to the Sudoku grid. I stare at it until my vision blurs.
“Hey,” he says. His voice is soft and warm. A caress. It makes every nerve ending in me tingle.
“Hi,” I mumble, still not looking up.
I can smell him—coffee, heat, that spicy note that’s him. His scent makes
me want to do things. Like wrap myself around him and never let go.
“May I?”
I nod.
