Page 94 of The Love Playbook

And you’re jealous.

ME:

So?

My gaze slides to the street, noting the petite brunette coming this way, and I light up like a fucking lightbulb.

My hoodie dwarfs her small frame, and though I know she had zero intentions of me catching her in it, the sight is one to behold.

Something possessive stretches inside of me like a lazy cat at the sight of her, purring as I watch her approach and knowing my name and number are on her back. Her arms hang at her sides, hands fisted into balls as she mutters to herself, gaze fixed on the sidewalk at her feet.

Moving to her car, I lean against the rusted hunk of metal, waiting for her to notice me, and wondering why she’s so deep in thought. Her gaze lifts, and she jumps with a start, her hand pressed to her chest. “You scared the shit out of me,” she breathes. “What are you doing here? I thought you went home?”

I shrug, noting the way her hair shimmers with hints of auburn in the lamplight. “I wanted to see you.”

Her lips twitch like she wants to smile but won’t allow it. “Didn’t you just see me when you crashed my dinner?”

“First of all,” I say as I raise a finger, “I was invited. There’s a difference. Second, seeing you in the presence of your father doesn’t count.”

“Oh, really?”

He nods. “Really.”

“And when does it count?”

“When I can touch you like this.” I push off her car and close the gap between us until I tower over her. Reaching out, I run my hands down the length of her arms to her balled fists, and she shivers.

Slowly, I uncurl her digits, smoothing the tension in her palms with my thumbs.

“If I recall, you touched me at dinner,” she says, her voice unsteady in a way that tells me I have an effect on her, even if she does tries to hide it.

One corner of my mouth quirks in a sly grin. “It doesn’t count unless there’s a chance I might kiss you.” Her gaze drops to my mouth, egging me on. “Do you want me to kiss you, Lettie?” I murmur.

Her throat bobs before a slow-spreading smile skates over her lips, and she lifts her chin in challenge. “Only if it gets you to shut up.”

I bark out a laugh. “Oh, is that the only reason?”

When she shrugs, I intertwine her fingers in mine and turn, tugging her toward the brightly lit coffee shop. “Fine. No kisses for you then, because I’m definitely not done talking yet.” I motion to Java the Hut. “Have a coffee with me?”

“Coffee?” She scrunches her nose and it’s so fucking cute, I contemplate everything I just said about not kissing her yet. “It’s eight p.m. and you have an early morning. Should you really be caffeinating right now?”

I scoff. “It’s never too late for coffee,” I say, taking her hand in mine and guiding her into the little café without waiting foran answer. “Caffeine doesn’t affect me, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll have one of those herbal teas you love so much,” I say with a grimace.

Lettie beams up at me with a laugh, and it almost makes the sacrifice worth it. “You say that like you’d rather drink cyanide.”

“Is there really a difference?” I tease.

Tugging her past the life-size statue of Darth Vader by the door and toward the counter, I gesture for her to order, then browse the list of teas for the most appetizing one. “Okay, so what should I have, Lettie girl, and none of that lavender shit.”

Charlotte snorts. “He’ll have chamomile tea,” she tells the barista.

“Chamomile,” I grumble. It evensoundsgross.

“It’ll relax you and help you sleep.”

I grunt, then order two slices of chocolate chip cheesecake from a platter being held up by a baby Yoda to go with it and hand the barista my card. “What?” I ask when Charlotte stares at me with wide eyes.

“How can you possibly be hungry after the monster burrito and half a pound of chips you just ate?”