Page 42 of Tell Me Again

“I can’t even tip my server for refilling my coffee wayyyyyy too many times?” I cut in, grinning as I glance up at him.

I’d hoped for a laugh, but his eyes are fixed on the money in my hand, his lips pursed together, and with a shake of his head, he says, “It’s—it’s too much. I-I can’t take this. I mean, I...”

There’s something in his expression now that tells me maybe I’m a little closer to winning this argument, and when he looks up at me again, my heart both flutters and aches. There’s a mix of hurt and uncertainty in his eyes, and it just tugs at me, pleading.

God, I want to tell him. I want to stretch up and kiss his lips and tell him everything. I’ve already said I’m sorry, but there’s so much more. It’s so much more than that.

And I know it’s not the best time. I’m still not quite steady enough myself, and I still have a lot of thinking to do, a lot to figure out. So I just shake my head gently and then step up to him to close that little bit of distance.

God, he’s so close to me now. I can feel him.

Before I can lose my nerve, I reach out with my free hand to take his, and it’s immediate and intense, and—oh, god.

Shit.

His skin is warm. Soft. Smooth. And there’s this rough heat that just rushes through me, spreading outward from my chest. I bite my lip, trying to maintain some sort of control, but holy shit, it’s just... a lot. With a sharp breath, I press the money into his palm and then close his fingers around it and back off.

My heart’s going at least a million miles an hour, and I’m pretty sure I can’t really breathe. I also can’t quite look at him, because I’m not sure I can handle whatever I’d see. I shove my hands back into my pockets and cough to clear my throat.

“Please, Coop, I-I just want to help a friend out. It’s just... the least I can do.”

When he doesn’t say anything, I finally convince myself to look up, and he’s staring at the money in his hand, his jaw tight. He frowns a little and closes his eyes, then lets out a short breath.

“Thanks. I-I’ll pay you back—”

“Not necessary,” I say, and when he looks up as though about to protest, I shake my head. “Seriously, man.”

He’s obviously still not comfortable with it, but he nods and stuffs the money into his pocket. “Oh, uh, here.” He pulls my keys out and tosses them to me. “Sorry, I confiscated them, but—”

“I appreciate it. It really wasn’t safe for me to drive.”

He nods again, and his eyes meet mine, lingering for a moment as a small smile returns to his lips. “I-I should go back to, um, check on Mel and stuff...”

“Yeah, I should get going too. See you tomorrow?”

“So I can kick your ass at bowling?” he says, lifting one eyebrow in challenge.

I laugh, which feels really great. “That’s probably exactly what’ll happen.”

He grins again, and it seems to warm me all the way down into my toes. God, I love it. His smile. Him. God, I love him.

Damn.

“Tomorrow, then,” he says, and he grins one more time before he turns and heads back toward the kitchen.

Chapter Seventeen

Coop

The total for the battery comes to one hundred thirty-four dollars and ninety-two cents. I get eight cents in change. And I’ve got another three dollars left in my pocket from the last table I served today. And probably about sixteen dollars in my bank account.

It’s all good. All fucking good.

I’m not gonna panic. Friday’s coming up, and Fridays usually mean good tips. So I should be fine.

Totally fine.

I nod a quick thanks to Hank, pocket the receipt and my change, and then lift the battery off the counter by its handle. He grimaces as he watches me—because holy shit, this thing isn’t light—but I force a smile.

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