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“To make a girl what?”
She turns her attention squarely on her laptop. “Anyway. I’m kinda glad we worked backward and compiled all the references already?—”
I lean down, nuzzling her hair until I find the shell of her ear. I give it a tiny nibble that produces a yelp. The whole café could be watching right now, but I couldn’t give two flying turds.
“Finish the sentence, Luz.”
A shiver travels down her spine. Since she doesn’t say anything, I push her hair out of the way until a sliver of skin is visible. And I kiss it. Slow, with my mouth open. As if kissing her lips.
She makes an involuntary sound. Only I can hear it in the din, but she still covers her face with both hands. And jams her elbow into my stomach hard enough that I have no choice but to retreat.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Yeah.” I grin. “Because of you.”
Through gritted teeth, she says, “Would you please just focus on our assignment? We have to deliver it after Thanksgiving, and at this rate, we’ll be done next year.”
“Okay, okay.” I run a hand through my hair, for once doing my best to dispel the desire for her running rampant in my body, engorging my veins and heating up my skin. At a café, for goodness’ sake. “What’s the next step?”
“The motivation part.” Her voice comes out shaky, and while I don’t remark on it, I do bask in it.
“So, why are we opening a PT center again?”
Tinker Bell turns to me. Gone are the traces of the flirtation we had going on. In its place is abject shock.
“Wait, you just accepted my proposal of doing a PT center just like that?”
“Uh, yeah?” I ask, uncertain where this is going. “I didn’t have a firm business idea in mind, and you seemed so passionate.”
“Wow, I don’t know whether to smack you or kiss you right now.”
“My cheeks are always available.” I point at one of them.
Her lips press into a tight line, but I can see she contemplates it for a second before focusing back on the subject. “I want to open a PT center after I’m done with hockey so I can treat people like me.”
“Crap, I want to punch myself right now.”
“It’s okay.” Impulsively, she places her hand on my knee but removes it before I can enjoy the touch. In response, I hold her hip just a little tighter.
“How personal do you want to go with the motivation?” I ask, because she has the sole decision power.
“It’s going to be more impactful if I speak from experience.” Tinker Bell lifts her shoulders like we’re talking about the weather. “Besides, there are a ton of articles about me and my case online already. It’s like free references.”
“What?”
She pretends to be shocked. “You mean we became a thing, and you didn’t even Google me?”
There’s a little wrinkle between her eyebrows that tells me she’s joking to try to cover for something else.
“Do you want me to?” I ask in all seriousness.
After a brief moment, she takes a shaky breath. “Yes, I think I want you to.”
“Then show me the way.”
She clicks over to the search engine and inputs just a few keywords. Many results come up with words like experimental treatment and spinal cords. She places the device on my lap.
“There it is.” She clasps her hands together. “The naked truth.”
