Page 15 of You, Again

“Sorry, but…I should get to work,” I said apologetically.

“No problem.” He set a twenty on the table and stood. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“It’s on the house,” I insisted, pushing the money toward him.

“No, no. I support local businesses. Keep the change.”

His over-the-top wink practically begged me to roll my eyes, but I had more to say. We had to clear the air…at least a little.

“Um…hey, even if you don’t make it through summer, your presence alone is good for business for the whole town. ‘NHL Hero Comes Home’ and all that bullshit. If you don’t mind the attention, and I’m assuming you don’t—come help out at the rink. It’s easy and fun. You won’t regret it.”

Vinnie rubbed his scruffy jaw thoughtfully. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

I smiled tentatively and raised my hand for a high five. “Great.”

“But only if you’re my assistant.”

“What?” I pulled my hand away before he could slap it, furrowing my brow. “No way. Gavin is perfectly capable of—”

“Nope. It has to be you.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“’Cause…” Vinnie blew out an exasperated breath. “I want to fix this. Me and you. And I can’t do that if you ignore me.”

And just like that, the invisible wall between us shook in its foundation.

“We’re fine,” I bluffed.

Vinnie arched a brow. “You’re mad at me. I know why, and I get it. We don’t have to go into it now, but at the very least, we should call a truce ’cause if we’re working with impressionable teens, you really oughtta be nice to me, Moore.”

My mouth opened in a perfect O. “I’ve been perfectly civil to you. More civil than you deserve, Kiminski.”

“See? That wasn’t nice,” he teasingly scolded. “I can’t believe I’m the voice of reason here.”

I fixed him with a bored sardonic stare. “You are never the voice of reason.”

“I kind of am now.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you—oh, my God.” I pointed at the door. “Good-bye, Vinnie.”

He snickered, flashing a lopsided devil-may-care grin my way. “Wait up. Let’s seal the deal on this truce.”

“Oh, brother.”

“I’m serious. Let’s shake hands, hug it out, kiss and make up, or all of the above.”

I regarded his outstretched hand suspiciously and cautiously slid my palm against his. “Fine. Truce.”

“See, that didn’t sound friendly. You ruined it. Gimme a hug,” he demanded, pulling me into a bear hug, squeezing me hard enough to crack a rib.

I let out anoomphof surprise and tried to wriggle out of his hold. He took the hint and loosened his grip. I knew it was all in good fun or at least meant to playfully rile me up, but when he bent to kiss my cheek, I turned my head just as he swooped in andbam!Our lips collided in an actual, honest-to-God kiss.

A fucking kiss.