I must be imagining it.
Why would he be nervous?
And why would he be asking me out for coffee?
“We have a lot of coffee here,” I laugh.
It comes out like a joke, but I immediately catch the flicker of disappointment in his expression.
“I’m sorry, I meant I’ve already had a lot of coffee today, and I have a few errands to run. But maybe tomorrow we could go for coffee? Unless you have ice hockey. Then another day is fine. Or yeah, that works too. Or”
“Gwen,” Zane interrupts gently.
“Tomorrow sounds good to me. Why don’t you give me your number, and we’ll figure out whether we want coffee, a beer, or something else later? I wouldn’t want to go to your bakery’s competitor, would I?”
He smiles.
And my entire body short-circuits.
Is this really happening?
Did Zane Miller from the Grizzlies just ask for my number?
Does he realize the charity event is over?
“Sure. Yeah. Coffee is good. Beer is good.”
I want to disappear.
Or slap myself.
Because somehow, I’ve completely forgotten how to speak like a normal human being.
“Coffee is good. Beer is good.”
Zane chuckles as he hands me his phone.
It’s a miracle, but somehow I manage to type in my number without dropping it. The thing suddenly feels like the newest phone on the market, and my fingers are anything but steady.
“I’m looking forward to tomorrow,” Zane says, tossing the wrapper of the pain au chocolat into the bin.
“Me too,” I manage.
He’s almost out the door when he pauses and turns back.
“Hey, Gwen?”
I look at him.
“You were great on the ice.”
And just like that, he’s gone.
It takes him maybe ten seconds to disappear. The moment he does, Tess storms in.
She rushes straight to the front door, flips the sign to “closed,” and marches toward me.
“I swear I wasn’t eavesdropping, but the bakery walls are thin, and Gwen did he ask you out?” Tess asks, practically vibrating.
