Staring at the ceiling.
“Oh, fuck,” I whispered.
I wassoscrewed.
CHAPTER 23
Iwas going to fall asleep at the counter.
After a terrible night of tossing and turning —andtwo very unsatisfying rounds with my vibrator — I’d officially reached the horny hangover stage of regret. My whole body was a little achy, like my skin remembered Ansel’s hands and was actively mourning their absence.
The shop was quiet. It was still early. I was nursing a coffee — hot, a little chocolatey, and absolutelynotstrong enough to knock out whatever this was.
I had every intention of coasting through my shift in a haze of self-delusion.
Until Lara walked in.
They were fuming. Their hair was wild, like they’d stormed here the second they saw… whatever it was they saw. I certainly didn’t know. But they had two cups of coffee in hand, so I figured if they were about to kill me, at least they were going to caffeinate me first.
“Juniper Paige Haddock.”
Oh no.
“Hi, Lara,” I chirped. “It’s so good to see you.”
They did not smile. Instead, they slammed a coffee in front of me like it was bail money and I was in holding. Then they dropped a piece of paper on top of it — folded in half, but ominous as hell.
“Are you here for the new dark romance drop?” I offered, voice too bright. “I saved you a signed?—”
“Don’t youfuckingdare.”
I swallowed, unfolding the paper.
Yep.
There it was.
Ansel. Me. Practically in his lap. With one of his hands on my back, the other in my hair. Hismouthon my neck like we were trying to summon the gods of PDA.
I cringed.
“Seriously, Juniper?” Lara’s voice cracked. “How long has this been going on?”
“Nothing’sgoingon!” I blurted. “It was a weird pool party moment, okay? We’re friends. It got weird. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Lara looked unimpressed. “You’reliterallyglowing. You look like you got spiritually rearranged.”
“That is rude,” I said, covering my cheeks with both hands. “But also… horrifyingly fair.”
Lara opened their mouth again — no doubt to read me for filth — but the bell above the door rang.
I froze. My soul left my body.
No.
He was here.
Ansel fucking Barlowe strolled in, hair still a little messy from sleep, carryingtwoiced coffees in his hands.
