Page 23 of Hats off to Love

It’s insane.

I’m insane.

That must be what is happening to me—I’m going insane.

And what does any insane person do? They obsess over false realities.

I can’t stop thinking about his hands on my body, the feel of his face and his hair under my fingertips, his tongue as it so expertly moved against mine, tasting as much as he could. Stokes has unknowingly ruined any other kiss I will ever receive from anyone else going forward. It was so good and so life-altering that just replaying it in my mind is causing unwanted heat flashes.

So. Unfair.

Bursting through the door at two minutes after ten, Molly waves her phone like a crazy person. Yesterday, she said she’d be here when the shop opened, but considering how much fun she was having with Austin last night, I wasn’t expecting her until at least noon. Then again, we haven’t had a chance to talk about what happened last night.

“Did you see the Tea?” she half-yells at me. No Hi, how are you? or Are you okay? Part of me was even expecting, What in the world took over your body and possessed you to kiss my brother?

I groan, and my head drops to my arms, which are draped across the counter.

Not only did I see the Tea, now aside from just the people at the party, the whole world has seen Stokes kissing me.

I mean, it wasn’t even that long of a kiss, at least I don’t think so, but there we are headlining, front and center this morning for the article breakdown of last night’s party.

“Molly, this is horrible,” I whine into my hands.

I’d like to say I’m above all this and can be nonchalant about the whole thing as if it were nothing, but I can’t.

I’m traumatized.

Again the bell over the door rings, and my head pops up to find Stokes casually striding toward us. Where I look like I’ve been run over by a semi, he looks as fresh as a daisy in a dark gray sweater and jeans.

“Oh, big brother, you’ve done it now,” Molly teasingly warns as she moves to stand next to me.

He comes to stand on the other side of the counter from us and sets down three coffees and a bag. Without saying a word, he opens the bag and pulls out a clear plastic to-go box with the most heavenly piece of toast I’ve ever seen. It’s large and covered with smashed avocado, pickled radishes, crumbled goat cheese, and salt and pepper.

My mouth waters as he sets the box and one coffee in front of me.

Instantly my arms wrap around them, and I pull them closer as if the items don’t already know they’re mine.

“Peace offering,” he says, his light eyes meeting mine.

My stomach dips and swirls at the connection, and I hate that right at this moment, I have to remind myself that he and his perfect kiss are not my friend, but a foe.

“Whitlock, I appreciate the breakfast, but you must know there will never be peace between us, only war, especially after that stunt you pulled last night.”

Next to me, Molly grabs her coffee. She mumbles about liquid fuel and how much it’s needed as Stokes and I continue to stare at each other like we’re about to participate in a gun-slinging showdown.

He shifts so he’s leaning against the counter and facing me. “While I’ll agree with you that it wasn’t my finest moment, need I remind you that you neither challenged nor resisted me?”

He brought lawyer Stokes with him this morning, and I just don’t have it in me to stand tall, fix my ponytail, and spar with him. I let out a groan and drop my head again so I don’t have to look at him. If I do, I’ll be swayed to look at his lips, because, again, I’m going insane, and I refuse to give him the satisfaction.

Next to me, Molly cracks the lid on her coffee, and the smell of hazelnut hits us both. She murmurs, “My favorite.”

“You realize this is a good thing, right?” he says to me, ignoring his sister.

“How do you figure?” I ask, inhaling a deep breath and finally lifting my head.

Will I ever be able to look at him and not think about his hands on me, how well he kisses, how he tastes, and how he feels pressed against me?

“Because now I’ll be left alone.” His eyes are bright with delight, and he’s giving me his version of a smile, lips closed with one corner tipped up higher than the other. “Well, mostly.”