“Hi.”
“Marcus. What are you doing here?” I close the distance between the two of us, keeping a foot of space between. A safe amount because from here, I can smell the scent of his cologne. There’s a tinge of sweat mixed in, like he just came from hockey practice.
He smirks at me. “Picking up the girls.”
“Right. Of course.” I mentally slap myself.Why else would he be here?
“I was kind of hoping I’d run into you.”
“Really?” That has my heart fluttering in my chest. It clearly doesn’t know we’re not allowed to feel things for Marcus, no matter how much I tell myself that.
He pulls something from behind his back. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“Your favorite.” Holding out a plastic coffee cup with a shy smile, he says, “It’s still the Nutella frap, right? I got it decaf since it’s later in the day and you always used to hate drinking caffeine in the afternoon.”
I’m stunned into silence.
“Shit. You don’t like it.”
“No. I still do.” I grab the cup from the bottom before he gets any ideas. Our fingers brush as he releases the cup, sending heat rippling through me. I should hate how easily I react to his touch, but something about it is soothing.
Ever since I hugged him in Vegas, my feelings have been chaotic at best when it comes to Marcus.
Do I like him? Hate him? Am mildly annoyed with him?
Needing to steady myself, I sip the drink and let the flavors explode on my tongue. Delicious.
He shrugs a shoulder. “I got the girls something, so I took a shot. Glad you still like it.”
I smile back at him. A real, genuine smile because the man still remembers my favorite coffee order. “You know, it’s kind of kismet that you’re here.”
“Why’s that?”
Marcus folds his arms across his chest, and I have to do everything in my power not to ogle them. He always had the best biceps. If they weren’t covered up with longsleeves, I could see the tattoos there that always drove me crazy.
“What do you need, Harper?”
“What?” My gaze snaps to his, and the smile playing on his lips tells me I’m busted.
Damn it.
“You said it was kismet I was here? Why’s that?”
“I need volunteers. Can I go ahead and sign you up?”
“Volunteers? For what?”
“The school’s fall carnival. It’s next weekend. Think you can swing that?”
Marcus pulls out his phone and taps on a few things. “We have a game Sunday afternoon, so if it’s Saturday, I can make it work.”
I smile at him. “Good thing it’s Saturday then.”
Marcus smiles back, his eyes crinkling at the corners with how wide it is. I forgot how much I loved these real smiles of his. It’s like he always saved them just for me.
“Just me, or do you need more volunteers?”
