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“Pretty please, can I have your number, Shorty?”
11
NATHAN
When I walkinto the coffee shop, Hannah is already at the front of the line, one person away from ordering. I’m about to join her when her eyes stray to mine. The smile that puffs her cheeks is a better boost than any kind of caffeine.
She waves me away before I can move closer. “I got this. Grab that table. Quick!”
I roll my eyes so dramatically that there’s no way she can miss it, even across the room, letting her know what I think of having commands shouted at me.
“Asshole, we’re gonna lose it!”
A quick glance around the shop shows that the place is pretty crowded, and there’s only one free table left. I guess Shorty’s always right.
“Flavored coffee of the day, cream and sugar,” I call out my order, ignoring the other patrons watching our exchange with a range of amusement and annoyance.
She nods and shoos me toward the table, her panicked gaze taking in a pair of girls walking through the door, who glance around the shop with searching expressions.
Their eyes alight on the table, but they’ve got no chance. I’m already halfway there, and I’ve got experience with fighting tougher competition than them for coveted space.
Said competition is currently laughing at something the barista said to her. In any other situation, I’d love the sight of Hannah’s eyes creased in humor, white teeth flashing in an openmouthed smile. Problem is, the barista is a halfway-decent-looking guy who seems to have more than Shorty’s coffee order on his mind. He actually leans an elbow on the counter to get closer to her, an answering smile forming when she goes to whisper something in his ear.
What. The. Fuck?
Is the guy her boyfriend or something?
Hannah doesn’t seem the type to go around kissing dudes and then bringing them to the place where her guy works. Maybe he’s just her friend.
Her gay friend, hopefully.
The dude slides two cups across the counter to her with a wink.
My stomach churns, and my head burns hot. I hate to admit it, but I’m pretty sure my sudden onset of flu-like symptoms is actually a result of jealousy.
The emotion is new, and I’m not a fan.
It’s not that I haven’t been attracted to girls in the past. There’ve been a few relationships over the years. But I guess they were all pretty casual because I never felt particularly invested. Things always ended easily enough.
That easygoing approach doesn’t seem right when it comes to Hannah Mystery Last Name. When I texted her this morning about meeting up for coffee, I didn’t use the worddate, which I’m thoroughly regretting now. The idea that some other guy might try to edge me out has my muscles clenching as if willing me to cross the room to wrap a possessive arm around her shoulders.
When did I suddenly turn into an overbearing caveman?
Luckily, the rational part of my mind points out that physically removing Hannah from the presence of anyone with a penis is unhealthy and is more likely to piss her off than endear her to me.
So, I keep to my seat.
I’m rewarded for my restraint because the moment Hannah reaches my side, she plants a kiss on my forehead before setting our coffees on the table and settling across from me.
“Good job. I thought I was going to have to brawl with someone to claim this table.” Her smiling eyes watch me over her lid as she takes a sip.
I mimic her movement, too dazed to do anything else.
She kissed me. The caress was nowhere near as passionate as what we had done last night, but somehow, the sweet casualness of the gesture felt more intimate. Like she might—
The coffee hits my tongue in an unexpected briny wave, like taking a swallow of the ocean. Luckily, not much made its way into my mouth because I send it spewing over the table. The napkin Hannah is holding up to shield herself catches most of what gets sprayed in her direction.
“What the hell?” The question barely makes it out through my coughing.
