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“After the interview, I wasn’t sure. I mean, he didn’t seem to care if I knew the subject matter.”
“Luke’s dad once told him that ninety percent of the people who apply could do the job well, so the key is who the person hiring wants to work with. Whatever you talked about got you the job.”
“I guess that makes sense.” They’d talked about stuff. Glover had been interested in why he was living with his grandfather, why he was tutoring Coury, what he wanted to do when he graduated.
“It doesn’t matter why, you got it and that rocks. Not everyone can say they got their dream job on their first try.” He pushed up from the chair. “Let me get you something to celebrate.”
“No!” He jumped up, chair skidding loudly. “This is my treat. Remember?”
“You can’t buy yourself a drink to celebrate a job offer.”
“Is there a law that says that?”
“Yeah, it’s called the unwritten law of friends. I think the exact language is, ‘Upon pain of death, thou shalt never let a friend buy the first round when he gets his first job.’ Do you want me to suffer a painful death?”
“Unless I’m wrong, it’s the same punishment for letting your friend buy when he passed his test.”
Coury nodded, but his grin said he had a snappy comeback. “Correct, except there’s an asterisk that adds, ‘except when your friend is the amazing tutor who helped you pass. In that case, thou shalt buy for your friend.’”
Liam snorted. “That’s so ridiculous. I suppose there are exceptions for every scenario where the rule points to me buying.”
Coury made a gun out of his hand, closed one eye, and “fired.” “Bingo, smart guy. So what do you . . . never mind, I know what to get you.”
“You do?”
“If I’m wrong I’ll let you rewrite the laws.”
“You realize I could say you’re wrong just to gain that power, right?”
“Some people might do that, but you’re a good person. You wouldn’t. Be right back.”
Coury dashed off, leaving Liam more convinced this was some weird reality where Coury tried winning Liam over by showing him how it would be if they dated. Only Coury wasn’t pretending. He was just being himself, and that made Liam want him more.
He watched him talk to the cute barista, who clearly thought Coury was hot. The stab of jealously left him mad at himself. Coury wasn’t his—probably never would be—so he should look away and not care.
Any second now.
The barista laughed, and Liam gritted his teeth, folding his arms tightly.
Coury turned back suddenly and smiled at Liam.
Liam shifted as the effect of the smile blasted into him. Whatever they were talking about, Coury was still thinking of him.
Two minutes later, Coury had two mugs and a brownie on a plate. He set one mug and the plate in front of Liam.
“One mocha with extra foam, and brownie with nuts to cut the sweet.”
“Wow.” Liam stared at what Coury had put in front him. He’d totally nailed it. The reverse wouldn’t have been true. When he looked up, Coury was staring at him. “How?”
“How did I know?”
Liam nodded and held the mug to his nose. It was perfect.
“This is from Saturday night.” He touched the plate. “You ordered the brownie sundae. You could have just ordered the ice cream, so that told me you wanted the brownie.”
He’d paid that much attention? Liam felt like the worst person. He couldn’t remember what Coury had for dinner, much less dessert.
“The drink was a guess. I thought it would go well with the dessert, so I took a chance.” He shrugged. “Did I get it right?”
“Totally.” Embarrassingly so. “Did the barista suggest this? Is that why you talked so long?”
“No, I figured it out on my own.” Coury twisted to see the guy behind the counter. “Do you think he’s cute?”
That was a bucket of ice water. “He is, but he’s not my type.”
“Really? Cute isn’t your type?”
“You’re a dork. There is more to my type than just cute. Why do you ask?” Nothing good could come from asking, but he wanted to know.
“I dunno. I just thought he was cute.”
“And I agreed with you.” Which felt like crawling over glass. So much for this being a date. Coury wouldn’t ask Liam about guys he’d be interested in dating if it was.
“So when do you start work?” Coury, oblivious to the gut-punch he’d delivered, pulled the chair out and sat.
“Hopefully soon. Glover needs to fill out the papers before I can start. Probably by the end of the week.”
“That’s awesome. Excited?”
“Yes. A bit nervous.”
“I get it, but you’re amazing. You’ll do great.”
* * *
Liam had a hard time believing Coury kept asking about other guys. How can he be that oblivious?
“No.” Liam didn’t hide just how much he disagreed with Coury’s assessment of the dark-haired guy in the Harrison Lacrosse jacket. Coury had never done this before. Why was he doing it now?
