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“So dainty. Pinky pointing up and all.”
Heat travels to my face, but I refuse to acknowledge it. “My hand is too freaking big for espresso cups, okay? My pinky’s too far away to even cradle the cup. It feels lonely and wants attention.”
“Sounds a little bit like you.” Her cheeks are pink as she smiles up at me.
“Well, you’re right. It is me.” I grin down at her, and for a second, I forget where we are. The noise fades away, and I get tunnel vision. All I see is her, Luz Rodriguez, my… thing. That’s what we said we are.
“Anyway.” She snaps out of it first, setting the mug with her drink down and picking up her laptop. “We should probably get to work.”
“I see you’re avoiding my question.” I sip my drink.
She clears her throat. “It’s just… We can’t be seen to be all chummy-chummy.”
“Why not?”
“Are you kidding me?” After a sweeping a glance around and confirming everyone’s minding their business, she still lowers her voice. “Our teams hate each other, and last I checked, we’re the captains.”
I shrug. “So what? It doesn’t mean we’re supposed to hate each other, right?”
“I wish I were that naive.”
“Besides,” I say, pretending not to have heard her. “I didn’t bring my laptop. And yours is so small. It’s hard to see the words from this far.” And by far, I mean the span of my open hand. That’s already too far in my books.
“Sure, Mr. I-have-one-of-the-best-dynamic-visions-in-the-region.”
“Did you read that in a news article when you were stalking me?” The way her skin heats up makes me smirk.
“See, this is the real reason I can’t get close to you. I just feel this really strong urge to punch you.”
In a swift motion, I down the rest of my espresso and set the cup down. Then I scoot so close I’m essentially glued to her. She tries to lean away, but the armrest keeps her locked in place. A small squeak escapes her lips as I sneak my arm around her back, splaying my hand on her opposite hip. It’s wedged against the sofa so no one can see it. And for good measure, I sneak it under the hem of her hoodie.
“Max—” She chokes on air and takes a few breaths before she can speak again. “You can’t just touch me like that and?—”
I freeze. “Oh. You’re right. I should’ve asked first?—”
Tinker Bell presses harder against my arm as I start to pull it away, halting the motion.
“That’s not what I mean right now,” she whispers, almost in a hiss. “And I do like your hand there—although yes, consent is sexy. But what I mean is that if someone sees us?—”
“Laptop. Small.” I point at the device balanced on her knees. “And you can always tell everyone how annoying it is that I’m all over you.”
“It’s not annoying, though,” she murmurs as she fires up the Word document our project is saved on. “I’m just trying really, really hard not to lean into you.”
That would be nice. I didn’t know that was exactly what I wanted until she mentioned it.
Sighing beside her, I say, “We need an off-campus date.”
A whining sound vibrates out of her throat. “Yes, please.”
“How about this weekend?”
Her eyes travel down to my lips for a second. “Do you think your lip will be healed by then?”
“Do you like kissing me that much?” A chuckle rumbles in my chest, but she doesn’t even get flustered.
“Um, have you never kissed yourself? It’s almost enough to make a girl…”
The end of the sentence remains suspended in the air. And it’s charged with electricity. Thundercloud Café, indeed.
