Page 37 of East

She nods. “Right away, sir.”

“And throw in a blackberry scone for good measure.”

“Absolutely. Toasted?”

“Is there any other way?”

The barista giggles and gets to work on my order. I press my credit card against the reader and then find a cozy corner of the coffeeshop with a direct line of view to the news station. I set up my laptop—I certainly won’t be the only hipster pretending to write a screenplay here—and wait for my drink.

“Golden Latte for Aus?”

“Thanks.” I pick it up from the counter, sit back in my chair, and take a sip.

And you know what? It’s pretty good.

15

THEA

“And we’re clear!” the cameraman shouts.

I heave a sigh of relief.

I’m done. I got through this.

Thank God I thought ahead and had a change of clothes here at the station. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise. By the time I woke up, it was too late to call in a backup forecaster. Would one of the anchors just have read the weather report off their phone?

Luckily, I woke up with just enough time to get to the station. Even fifteen more minutes and the broadcast would have been delayed, putting my career at risk.

All because I decided to go out last night.

Never again. I’m going to adopt ten more cats and become a permanent shut-in.

What the hell got into my head last night? Why did I go home with Wick?

The more I think about it, the more the idea upsets me. Not that Wick is too hard on the eyes, but he’s not my type at all. I guess being stood up by Bobby affected me more than it should have, and a hunger for validation led me to his home. That drink Kin made didn’t help. I felt like I was flying over the clouds for a little while.

At least we didn’t sleep together. He looks like the type of guy who doesn’t exactly keep things tidy down there.

I’m kicking myself for not getting home last night, too. Sure, my phone was dead, but I could have charged it for ten minutes and then headed out. No, instead I decided to sleep in a strange man’s bed.

Insane.

But I made it. And now I can go home, take my midday nap, and ease back into my routine. I’ll think twice before I open the Twistr app again, and I certainly won’t⁠—

Wait a minute.

Is it possible Kin put something in my drink? Or that he overserved me?

I didn’t feel super drunk, but I certainly wasn’t sober.

All I know is I wanted Wick right then and there. That was the only thing I could focus on. And the euphoria I felt was next to nothing. Seriously, I had this perpetual grin on my face.

Was there something besides booze in my drink?

No. That can’t be.

I’m smarter than that.