“Y’know, that section of your underwear drawer with stained panties from your goo-goo from your foo-foo?”
Cleo’s face sizzled as she covered it with her palm. She groaned. “Oh God. You really don’t filter anything you say, do you?”
“Why should I? It’s perfectly natural. Acidic discharge interacting with the dye on our undies and staining those expensive suckers right up.” She waved a finger between Sabrina and Cleo. “You can’t tell me it doesn’t happen to you. But Icantellyouthat you never read about the real-life shit like that in books. It’s always the perfect love story. No farts, period pants, or pH panties.”
Cleo reached over the counter and shoved her friend’s shoulder. “Ignore her. You’re right, she’s a cynic. I get why you wanted to go the indirect route. But seriously, Russ is a great guy, you could have taken it to him yourself.”
Sabrina scrunched her eyes closed and shook her head. “He was… eh… a bit pissy with me when we met. This… this is better. Anyway, I gotta jet. Feel free to pretend you found that gift and keep me out of it altogether. Thanks for being the mail carrier though.” She didn’t hesitate before fleeing the café, leaving the door to slam closed.
“There’s definitely a story there. What a weird night.” Molly slid her empty cup to Cleo. “You gonna talk to Linc?”
Cleo already had her phone in hand and Linc’s message string on the screen.
Cleo: Are you okay? I heard about the game last night.
Cleo: I close up soon, can I come over? I have something to give to Russell too. Two birds, one gift bag.
Lincoln: You could, but it would be a wasted journey since I’m parked outside.
Cleo: Of course you are.
A shimmer of anticipation flashed in her stomach and she couldn’t fight the smile that broke out across her face.
Cleo: Coffee?
Lincoln: Thanks, but that smile was the serotonin hit I needed today.
Cleo: Can you see me blushing through your stalkery binoculars?
Lincoln: Yup. It’s like a beacon of adorableness. Can I give you a ride home?
Cleo: I’d love that.
The door opened, and there stood Linc, wearing his signature blue jeans and a black polo shirt. Dark circles underlined his eyes, and while he smiled, it wasn’t his usual light-up-Broadway, panty-dropping smile. One knuckle had a Band-Aid over it – the rest were bruised, and his disheveled hair fell into his eyes.
She hurried out from behind the counter and launched herself into his waiting arms. She couldn’t help it. Breathing in his clean, fresh scent, she planted a kiss on his cheek, hesitating for a beat, hoping he’d turn to capture her lips in a full kiss. Her heart slammed against her chest.
“Not yet, Lizzy. If I kiss you here at work, you’ll get fired and they’ll need to clean this place with bleach.”
Warmth spread throughout her body, and she smiled before tracing the line of his jaw with her fingertips. “I hear you had a rough night last night.”
His eyes flew to Molly who gave a half shrug. “Nope. Not it. Will didn’t tell her either.”
Cleo jabbed a finger toward Molly. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the fact you didn’t tell me, Miss Morrison. Freakin’ hockey reporter best friend who didn’t bother to tell me you got into a fight.”
Molly tutted. “Look, it wasn’t my story to tell.”
“But you’re telling the whole school via newspaper, right?”
“Well, duh.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Drama sells. People love that shit. They love when Linc gets involved. It so seldom happens that people will absolutely eat it up.”
Linc shook his head. “It was nothing.”
“Nothing got you and that asshole JW sent home. I looked for you in the bar post-game…”
Cleo raised a questioning eyebrow.
“To make sure you were okay, obviously.” Molly gestured at Linc.
