“Priscilla?”
“You’re hopeless. A for effort, though.”
“Stop the flattery, Coop. It’ll go to my head.” I swat at his shoulder, laughing when he pulls me into a quick hug. We drop into the booth across from each other. I grab the pot of coffee waiting for us, filling my mug to the brim with caffeine. “And if I’m a dinosaur, that makes you a goddamn fossil.”
“There are three months between us, Dunn. Don’t be rude.” Cooper stretches out his legs, knee bumping mine under the table. He gives my shin a gentle kick with the toe of his boot and smiles again. “I’m surprised you left your fancy penthouse on Fifth Ave. to slum it down here with us.”
“You know I don’t live on Fifth Ave. Too many tourists.”
“Guess that means you’re practically a Manhattan local at this point. Are the rumors about the long line of models you’re seeing true? I’m going to go with no, given you’ve taken up accosting twenty-four-year-olds in diners.”
“What a welcome home this is.” It’s my turn to kick him, and I make sure to land right on his ankle. He lets out a sharp groan, and I smirk. “See if I share the cheesecake I brought back with me.”
“The prodigal son has certainly returned. The girl at the hostess stand is doodling Sebastian’s name all over the seating chart. I forget how people fawn over you.” Nathan, the other half of my friend group, interrupts us and takes the spot in the booth next to Cooper.“It’s good to see you, Sebby. You’re the only thing besides my plants or a fresh blueberry pie that could drag me out of bed this early.”
“I’m sitting right here,” Cooper says.
“And my statement still stands.” Nate gives him a once-over, moving to look at me. “What are you doing in town? Is this an extended vacation? Does ABC want to replace you?”
“I hope not. I got the okay to branch out and try something new, so it would be shitty if I was already canned,” I say.
“Something new?” Cooper asks.
“I’m taking a temporary leave of absence from the senior meteorologist gig.”
“The Emmy you won isn’t enough? Is this one of those eat, pray, love soul-searching trips?” Nate asks. “I doubt whatever you’re looking for can be found in our Orlando suburb.”
“That Emmy is proudly displayed in my home office.”
“You probably polish it every morning.” Coop snickers, and I kick him again. “I bet you stare at your reflection in it.”
“Keep the compliments coming, Givens.” I lean back, an arm draped across the curve of the booth. “There’s no soul-searching happening. I’m just changing gears for the summer.”
“What does that mean? You’re rowing more? Going into traffic reporting instead of covering post-natural-disaster recovery?” Nate tilts his head. “Taking a class on humility and learning not to be vain?”
“Very funny. I’m actually here because I pitched a weather docuseries to the execs in New York. They loved the idea of giving people something to watch that covers a prolonged period of time, and the primary focus is going to be highlighting hurricane season.” I pause to clear my throat. “I’ll educate on the dangers of weather while also showcasing its beauty. Any storm that makes its way to Florida, I’m going to be there reporting. Interviewing the locals and showing the aftermath through extensive damage assessment.”
“I like that.” Nate snorts. “Live from the eye, it’s America’s heartthrob, Sebastian Dunn.”
“Thisis the welcome home I was expecting,” I say. “You need to step up your game, Coop.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Cooper spins his baseball hat backward and covers his blond hair. There’s a faint red mark on his forehead where his helmet must’ve been sitting not too long ago. “The national nightly news. A new series. Is there anything you can’t do? It makes the rest of us look bad.”
“There are plenty of things I can’t do.” I shrug. “Can’t fold a fitted sheet to save my life.”
“We found the hero’s Achilles’ heel.”
“You know what they say. God gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers.” I cross my arms, grinning. “And I’m a warrior.”
Our server refills the coffeepot and takes our order after dropping off two extra mugs. There’s a scuffle over who gets the pink cup with white daisies printed on it. A rock, paper, scissors battle ensues until Nate wins and flips a middle finger Cooper’s way.
“I’m a first responder. I put my life on the line for people like you. I should get dibs on the mug I want,” Coop says. “Do you know how many injured bodies I pulled from a car accident last night while y’all slept?Five.”
“Way to make me feel like a guilty asshole.” Nate groans and shoves the plain mug across the table, swapping it out with the one decorated in flowers. “That’s not fair when all I bring to the table are scones and directions on how to make your own fertilizer. You’re a goddamn hero.”
“I love starting my day talking about fertilizer,” I say.
“So do I.” Nate stirs a clump of sugar into his coffee. “How long are you hanging around, Seb? All hurricane season?”
