“She actually said I should run in the other direction. I told her you’d just chase me.”
“I would.” His fingers skimmed my hip as I stepped past him, and we walked back to our table together just as our waitress came out with our pancakes.
My stomach growled immediately.
We sat down and dug in. Between the scent of vanilla in the air and the cheap, sugary syrup on my pancakes, it was bliss.
I fellasleep on the way home, only waking up for a few minutes when Maverick stopped at a gas station to buy a few more energy drinks.
I wasn’t going to comment on his choice in drink, or his caffeination. I overcaffeinated on a daily basis. Sometimes, it was a really good thing I wasn’t human. I would probably have given myself a heart attack.
“Alright, Sugar. We’re at the office.” Maverick’s fingers ran lightly over my forehead, pulling a few strands of hair away from my eyes. “I should take you home.”
“I’ve got too much to do,” I mumbled, sitting up slowly.
“You need to take a day off.”
“My boss is too much of an ass.”
“I just told you to take the day off, Bloom.”
“I was talking about me. You’re not in charge anymore. If I walk right now, your company will fall apart.”Probably.
“You should still take the day off.”
“I can’t. Paperwork waits for no one.” I opened my door and slipped outside. Maverick met me there, draping his arm over my shoulders again.
“You can’t walk into my workplace wearing my sweater with blood on it,” I said. “People are going to think I attacked you or something.”
“I wish you did.”
I yawned.I really did need to take a day off. And probably spend the whole thing sleeping.
“Sutton texted you while you were out. She’ll be landing around noon.”
“You should offer to pick her up.” I leaned some of my weight against him as we walked. I needed caffeine desperately.
“No.” Maverick stopped at the coffee shop in the lobby. There was a big line, but the barista waved him to the front, and no one complained.
I wouldn’t risk pissing off a tatted giant by complaining, either.
Maverick ordered two extra-large lattes. One was a mocha with some s’mores-like combination of flavoring and a heap of marshmallow foam. The second was a decadent caramel beast with syrup, a drizzle, half-and-half, and a soft top.
“Which one is yours?” I murmured, as we waited in front of the register. Both sounded equally appealing to me.
People were definitely staring at our backs—probably glaring, since we cut the line—but surprisingly enough, I didn’t care that much.
“You know I don’t drink coffee. They’re both for you.”
I sniffled as if I was getting emotional. “That’s so sweet, I could kiss you.”
“You should.”
“Maybe I will. After my first latte.”
“That’s a reasonable qualifier.”
“Mmhm. Sugary coffee is the real way to seduce me.”
