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I take out my phone, peering at the text I exchanged with Cade. We’re meeting at the cafeteria for breakfast. He’s on his way there now.
“Cade’s girl?”
I peer up. A guy at the counter is holding two drinks with an odd smile on his face, his brows scrunched.
Walking forward, I shoot a look at the girl at the counter who’s smirking. “That’s me,” I say, feeling as if a hundred dagger-eyes are poking into my back like I’m a traitor.
“Interesting name.”
“I guess it’s new.”
He shrugs. “Don’t worry about her. She hates her job, and sometimes, you have to make it interesting.”
After taking the drinks, I peek at the first cup, then the next, my shoulders drooping. Cade and Cade’s Girl.Lovely.
I hurry to the cafeteria, spotting Cade outside the exterior doors, typing on his phone. My phone pings, and I can’t help but smile. “Was that for me?” I ask.
His stare finds mine, and he smiles. Then his gaze drops to the cups in my hand. “You got me a coffee?”
“I did.” I beam, pride and accomplishment building. I want to addwith my own money, but that’s a norm for most people, and saying it out loud would sound pathetic.
He goes to take the one that saysCade’s Girl, but I pull it out of his reach. “Nope, this one’s yours.”
He takes it. “Did you get something different?”
“Oh, no.” I turn the cup so he can see what was written on it. “Courtesy of the girl at the counter.”
His eyes light up. “Well, she’s not wrong.” Reaching out, he tugs me toward him, his hand splayed on my lower back, just high enough to be considered decent for public affection. “I was worried about you, and here you are out buying me coffee. You never cease to amaze me.”
“It’s only a little thing,” I say, voice low, but he steps back to look at me, his gaze solidifying that he knows what a big deal this is for me. My brain tells me to stop celebrating it like it’s a win. Plenty of people do this every morning. Hell, I’d be willing to bet millions do it. But not me.
The weird part about it is it feels so normal.
He holds out the crook of his arm. “Let’s go, Cade’s Girl. I’m starving.”
“Yeah, I vote we don’t call me that.”
“I don’t know. It’s sort of sexy.”
“Only when you’re full of yourself.”
“I’d rather fill you with me over and over…and over again.”
“Where’d you get your flirting skills? Middle school?”
“Ooh, someone is feisty this morning.” He grins. “I happen to know you love my flirting because I can talk your pants off you in two seconds.”
“Please,” I scoff.
He stops me just inside the doors and crowds me against the wall, one hand above my head. Leaning over me, he rakes his gaze down my body and then up to my eyes before he flicks his tongue out, running it over his lips in the most devilish way that has me squeezing my thighs together.
“It worked,” I exhale. No point in denying it, considering I feel the rush of heat to my cheeks, and with the way he’s peering at me, he knows what he does to me.
He moves closer, pushing my hair out of the way. “Later. Right now, everyone is waiting for us.”
“Everyone?”
“Yeah, the guys.”