Page 44 of Blush Crush

“Heads up,” she murmurs, nudging me as she passes. “Professor Hottie at two o’clock.”

I look up just as Wes steps through the door.

He’s in his usual uniform—a cardigan today in a deep navy, glasses pushed up his nose, a canvas tote bag hanging off oneshoulder. He scans the room with an unhurried ease, and when his eyes land on me, his face opens into a warm smile.

“Hey.” He steps up to the counter. “It’s been a rough day. I need something strong.”

“I thought finals were over.” I smile back, reaching for a cup. “The usual?”

“Please.” He leans against the counter. “They are, which is why I spent the morning fielding emails from students who apparently can’t accept they are less than perfect. Anyway—” he waves it off—”how are you? I feel like I haven’t been in for a while.”

“You haven’t,” I say, and it comes out lighter than I expect. “I was starting to think you found somewhere else.”

“Never.” His eyes hold mine captive for an extended moment. “This place has ruined every other coffee shop. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

I laugh, ducking my head slightly as I start on his drink. Behind me I can hear the familiar sounds of the shop—the hiss of the steam wand, the low murmur of conversation—and I tell myself the warmth spreading up the back of my neck is just from the coffee machines and not the man in front of me.

“Actually,” Wes says, his voice dropping slightly, “I’ve been meaning to come in. I wanted to ask you something.”

I look up at him from the espresso machine, my heart doing a little flutter.

He tilts his head, and there’s something very deliberate in his appreciation as his gaze roves over me. The heat behind it makes my stomach do a slow, uncertain turn.

“I was wondering if you’d want to get?—”

“Hey, Ariana!”

A loud voice comes from across the room, forcing my attention off Wes.

I turn to find Cole no longer looking at his laptop. He’s looking directly at me and Wes, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, jaw hard, brows drawn in, eyes blazing. I can’t tell if he’s angry or if I’m just reading him wrong. All I know is it’s a look I’ve never seen on him before. Controlled on the surface. Something else entirely underneath.

Wes straightens, glancing between me and Cole with a curious gaze. He’s not rattled like I would’ve expected considering how intimidating Cole can appear when he tries.

“I think that guy wants your attention.” Wes’s brows rise, silently questioning why Cole decided this very moment to interrupt us.

Cole pushes back his chair. He doesn’t rush. He crosses the room the way he does everything—like he owns whatever space he’s walking into, which in this case he literally does. He stops at the counter, not close enough to be aggressive, but close enough to make his presence known.

“I need your help with something.” There’s an odd ring to his voice, and I don’t know what to make of it.

“We’re kind of in the middle of something here,” Wes says pleasantly, yet condescendingly.

A muscle jumps in Cole’s jaw. “It’ll just take a moment.”

The air in the immediate vicinity of the counter has taken on an uncomfortable quality. Sadie has gone very still near the steam wand.

“Cole, I’m sure it can wait.” My voice comes out low and pointed. Can he not see this could be the moment Wes is finally asking me out? Why is he sabotaging this?

“It actually can’t.”

Before I can comprehend what’s happening, Cole has walked over to my side of the counter and grabbed hold of my arm, dragging me away.

“We’ll be right back,” he says to Wes.

And apparently I’m too stunned to react, because I’m willingly letting him pull me away.

He walks us straight to the back room and doesn’t stop until we’re well into my prep space.

“What the hell are you doing?” I say, slipping out of his grasp.