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“That’s not awkward. You’re just wrinkling your nose a lot. Like a bunny. It’s kind of cute.”
She groaned. “You’re full of shit, Jasper Deares. There’s nothing cute about it. Don’t try to make me feel better.”
“I’m not.” He gathered up a few left-behind coffee cups from the side counter. “I mean, on some level, I can relate. I’ve always been a fidgeter. I still don’t sit for long without bouncing my knee or clicking a pen or whatever. When people ask me to stop doing it, I find it really tough. So I’m not pretending I can fully understand what you’re dealing with, but I get what it means to not be able to control certain things.” He tossed the cups in the recycle bin and washed his hands. “So now that I know you’re not making faces at me because you’re pissed, it’s not as noticeable as you think.”
His words made something sharp and defensive inside her smooth out a little. She took a sip of her coffee. “It’s not always this bad. Some days are better than others. Different things aggravate the condition. Caffeine, stress, lack of sleep.”Guys I’d like to see naked.“That kind of thing.”
“So what’s going on today? Late night?” He nodded at her cup. “I swear that’s decaf.”
“It’s not the coffee.” His eye contact was too much. She looked down and traced her finger around the rim of the cup. “It’s just been a rough morning.”
“Oh.” She could almost hear his frown. “What’s up?”
She tore another piece off the cinnamon roll, letting the gooey icing drip off her fingers. “It seems I’m about to lose my job. Yay.”
She shoved the bite in her mouth and chewed viciously, like the pastry has caused her current woe.
“Damn,” he said, tone full of sympathy. “I’m sorry. Been there.” He paused for a second. “But wait, I thought you were freelance. You can’t get fired from that, right?”
She looked up and sucked icing off her thumb. “It’s my main gig. The one that pays most of the bills.”
His gaze flicked to her mouth and then back to her eyes. “Why do they want to let you go?”
She pushed her plate toward him. “This thing is huge. Want some?”
He broke off a piece of cinnamon roll and popped it in his mouth.
She pulled the plate close again. “They don’t want to let me go. They want to promote me. But they’re asking me to do something I can’t.”
“What’s that?” he asked, the words muffled.
She met his curious gaze. “Do my posts on video. Become avlogger.” She waggled her sticky fingers. “Reveal who’s behind the anonymous persona I write under on the website.”
His eyebrows went up. “And you don’t want to do that?”
She let out a huff. “Jasper, have you met me? I can barely talk to people, much less a camera. And the video will catch every damn tic in full HD color. This”—she swept her hand in front of her face, almost knocking her coffee over with her elbow—“is not who people want to see as Miz Poppy.”
The words escaped before she could stop them. Her fingers pressed over her mouth.Shit.
Jasper blinked. Then his lips parted. “Hold up. Did you just say…”
She shook her head and lowered her hand to grab a napkin. “No, I did not. You didn’t hear that. Ignore me.”
But Jasper’s eyes had grown big. “Holy shit,” he said, keeping his voice low and leaning forward. “You’reMiz Poppy. Like leather-clad, black-haired cartoon vixen Miz Poppy?”
She dabbed her mouth with the napkin. “I said you didn’t hear that.”
“Hollyn.”
“What? You don’t see the resemblance?” she asked dryly.
“I… Wow.”
“You seriously cannot tell anyone,” she warned, her free hand doing her four count against the counter. “Like no one. They’re planning this big reveal thing. Not that I’m going to be able to do it.”
Jasper let out a sound of wonder and shook his head, delight on his face. “You’re messing with me right now. I told you I loved her.”
She sniffed. “Yeah. That wasn’t uncomfortable at all.”
