Page 17 of Only Be Mine

“I did say maybe,” I replied, sliding into the booth. “This could still be an elaborate coincidence where I just happened to walk into your hangout at the exact moment you’re here.”

“Mmm.” The corner of his mouth tipped up. “I like this coincidence.”

He sat, and for a second I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I folded them on the table. Unfolded them. Tried for casual and missed.

“So,” I said. “This your place?”

“One of them,” he said. “Seth and I come here a lot. When we remember we’re supposed to be social beings and not just cave goblins with jobs.”

“Seth being the friend with the mysterious girlfriend who may or may not exist?”

He laughed. “That’s the one. He’s running late.”

“Is he real,” I asked, “or like… Canadian-girlfriend real?”

John snorted. “He’s real. I’ll prove it when he gets here.”

The waitress appeared, a tiny woman with bright red lipstick and a black apron that read DRINK NOW, REGRET LATER.

“What can I get you?” she asked.

“Whiskey, neat,” John said.

Of course. Whiskey. It fit him.

She turned to me. “And you, sweetheart?”

“Strawberry milkshake?” I said automatically, then winced. “Sorry. Reflex.”

John’s lips curved, eyes flicking to mine with recognition. Haunted house. Moe’s. God, why did he remember everything?

“We do spiked shakes,” she said. “You want to upgrade?”

I hesitated.

“Go for it,” John said. “We’re celebrating.”

I arched a brow. “Celebrating what, exactly?”

“That you’re here.” He said it simply. No smirk, no over-the-top charm.

My stomach flipped. I looked back at the waitress before my brain short-circuited. “Okay. Spiked strawberry milkshake. Surprise me.”

“You got it.” She scribbled, then disappeared.

“I’m not staying long,” I said quickly. “I have… things. Later.”

“Sure,” he said easily. “An hour. Two. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

And he meant it. No pressure. No push. No, “come back to my place” ten minutes in.

I didn’t know what to do with that.

“So,” he said, leaning his forearms on the table. “How's the world of interior design?”

“Noisy. A client changed their mind on a living room remodel three times. First neutrals. Then bold colors. Then she decided she’s a minimalist now.”

John winced. “Ouch. Did you kill her?”