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“You know, there’s this handy dandy document on your phone called the mate manual,” Zed remarked. “It’s on mine too. Maybe you should read it.”
“Is there an audiobook?” I checked.
“I can make one.”
A grin stretched my lips. I wouldn’t mind hearing his gorgeous voice reading anything at all.
“Alright, when we swap seats, you can read me the damn mate manual.”
He lifted a fist in the air, like a sarcastic fist-pump almost.
I snorted. “You’ve got way too much sass, Zed.” I wanted to call him by his last name, but it occurred to me that I didn’t even know it. “What’s your last name.”
“Lewis.” He parked at the gas station I’d directed him to. “You grab the drinks, I’ll pump the gas?”
“Sure. What do you want?”
“To try whatever made you excited back there.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll let you taste mine.”
He flashed me a small grin. His eyes were lit up in a way that made my lower belly feel warm. “Whichever energy drink has a deal going on, then.”
My eyebrow lifted. “Energy drinks, huh? You know those things can kill you.”
His grin widened. “That’s what Jesse, Elliot, and my mom tell me. I’ve never seen the evidence, though.”
I put a hand on my hip. “If we’re going to be tied together, I’m not buying you a damned energy drink, Lewis.”
He laughed. “Alright, get me whatever you think is safe enough, then.”
I flipped him the bird as he grabbed the gas pump, and then I strolled inside the gas station.
Grabbing myself the biggest cup of my favorite soda took all of one second, then my gaze swept the drinks. My eyes caught on a premade smoothie with an assload of vegetables and added protein, and my lips curved into a grin as I grabbed it.
I was so funny.
Setting my drinks on the empty counter, I reached for my backpack, then realized I wasn’t wearing it.
Shit.
“I’ve got to grab my wallet out of my truck,” I apologized quickly, heat rising to my cheeks. I was too damned proud, and too damned conscious of what the cashier might be thinking.
The middle-aged man stared down at me, boredly.
A bell jingled, and Zed stepped inside. His arm went around my waist as he tossed some cash on the countertop.
I found myself leaning against him, relief washing through me.
“Sorry,” I murmured, as Zed took his change and grabbed the bag.
“I believe the appropriate response is, ‘thank you’.”
My cheeks warmed. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to leave my wallet in the car; my backpack was just in the back seat. I—”
Zed stopped me where I was, his arm still on my waist. He turned me so our chests met, and then tilted my head back with a few knuckles beneath my chin. Our lips brushed once, and then again, and our tongues danced lightly for a minute before he pulled away. “I like buying you things,” he told me.
His expression was genuine, and his words firm enough to leave no room for me to question it. “I saw your backpack on the back seat, and figured I’d save you a trip out and back in. Don’t overthink it, okay?” We reached the truck, and he tugged my door open.
