Page 4 of Wanna Bet?

Kaylee tapped her chin. “And the way your voice went softer when you spoke to him?”

“That is also customer service. Again, a great barista.”

“Sure is,” Kaylee said. “Very…tender.”

Myah groaned and turned toward the sink, running water she didn’t need just to have something to do with her hands. Her reflection in the stainless steel stared back at her, eyes bright, mouth tilted.

She did not have a crush on Jace. That would be ridiculous.

He was quiet. Painfully quiet. The kind of quiet that made people lean in without realizing they were doing it. The kind that filled space instead of shrinking from it. And okay, yes, his politeness was…aggressive. Disarming. He said please like he meant it, like he’d practiced it in the mirror. He thanked her like she’d done him a favor instead of just handed him a drink she was being paid to make.

It was annoying. Extremely annoying. But…also adorable.

“And,” Kaylee continued, undeterred, “he’s definitely not allowed to walk up.”

Myah stiffened. “I know that.”

“There’s literally a sign.”

“I can read.”

“Big sign,” Kaylee said. “Bright letters. Drive-Up Only.”

“I know,” Myah snapped, then sighed. “I know.”

She did know. That was part of the problem. The stand was a drive-up for a reason–traffic flow, safety, the city’s weird zoning rules. People weren’t supposed to just wander up on foot like it was a neighborhood lemonade stand.

Except Jace did. He always did. He’d shown up one morning with that tentative half-smile and asked, very politely, if it was okay. He lived nearby, he said. He didn’t have a car. He didn’t want to cause trouble.

Also, Jace was built. Muscles on muscles, he was practically a car of a person. If a person was a car? He could carry passengers for sure. Carry passengers? Carry me, anytime. Where was this train of thought headed? Anyways…

Myah had glanced at the empty street. At the complete lack of managerial supervision, and at the way he’d already looked halfway prepared to apologize for existing.

And she’d said yes.

She told herself it was because he was quiet. Because he didn’t block traffic. Because he stood off to the side like he was trying to take up as little space as possible.

She did not tell herself it was because he looked relieved in a way that made her chest ache.

“Rules are rules,” Kaylee said now, sing-song.

“Rules have exceptions.”

Kaylee smirked. “Oh, they do?”

Myah turned, pointed at the curb. “He stands there. He’s out of the way. He’s polite. He tips.”

“He tips?” Kaylee clutched her heart. “Say no more.”

“And,” Myah added, “he’s not loud.”

Kaylee blinked. “Is that a requirement now?”

“Yes,” Myah said seriously. “Loud people are exhausting. Quiet people are…manageable.”

Kaylee studied her. “You think he’s cute. Hunky even.”

Myah scoffed. “I think he’s tolerable.”