Page 30 of Hiding from Hope

“Oooo, Cotton Candy! That could be yum.”

“It’s terrible.”

I look to him and narrow my eyes. “Is that an honest assessment or coming from someone who hates joy?” I raise my eyebrow in challenge, and he bites on the inside of his cheek to hide his smile, as those gold and blue eyes alight with amusement.

“Touché.” His voice is deep and rough and sounds dirty, and I hate loving it so damn much.

“Maybe…” I trail off and read the rest of the menu, trying my best not to be distracted by his proximity, by the smell of vanilla, books, and man, and the way he completely envelops my senses, especially from this close. “I’ll get Cotton Candy, with blue heaven and banana. Extra cream.” I slap the menu down and place my hands on the counter next to me, inside his embrace, and lean forward. I smile and bite my lip. “Delicious,” I whisper, repeating his taunt from that day in my kitchen.

Our faces are so close, I could lean forward a fraction and we would kiss. Our lips would touch, and I’d be lit on fire. Everything in me screams not to do it because it crosses the final line I’m trying to hold between us, but God do I want to know. He seems to sense my growing desire and takes one for the team as he steps back and toward the coffee machine.

“You are utterly insane, you know that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you hear the order you just gave me? It is a toothache waiting to happen.”

“Nonsense. It sounds like every kid’s dream.” I plop down from the counter and move to the book stacks that line the wall opposite the coffee machine in an attempt to get some air as I try to find a way to casually ask about that blonde he was with, without crossing friendship lines and entering jealous girlfriend territory.

“You’re not a kid anymore, Ace.”

“No, but don’t you wish you could be again?”

He chuckles and nods his head.

“So…” I linger and turn away from him so he can’t see my blush. “What did you do this weekend?”

“Same as you.” Ugh, vague. “Went to Bozzelli’s for a drink,” he continues. I nod and try to pretend I am reading the titles of these books.

“Walk of shame, or did you stay for breakfast?” I put on my best teasing voice, so it sounds like a question from a friend and not me satisfying my own curiosity.

“Neither.” Dammit, that gave me nothing. I spin on a heel and see him looking at me, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What is that look for?”

“Just amused,” he says before he puts his attention back on making my beverage.

“And what is so amusing?” Now I’m annoyed. I walk back to the counter but remain on the customer side and cross my arms as he leans on the counter and pushes my finished drink forward.

“Casey Baker, you’re jealous.” I steal the drink and scoff.

“Am not.” Are too. “I was simply being a friend and trying to see if you had as successful of a weekend as I did.” I throw Lane in his face and leave out the fact the guy couldn’t find a g-spot if I drew him a map.

“Well, for the sake of your curiosity, I dropped Chloe, my old college friend, home to her wife, at about 11pm.” Ohhhhhhh.

I internally slap myself and try my best not to wear my embarrassment on my face. Except, I must fail because Jessie’s face lights up, but when his gaze moves to my neck, the light drops, and he turns to busy himself at the counter. “Seems like you had a great night, though.” I raise a hand to cover the giant hickey Lame Lane left.

Friends, we’re being friends. And I need to bridge this weird gap I created with my misplaced jealousy. “Was great on the surface. Lane was pretty lame.” He turns his head over his shoulder and laughs.

“I could have told you that.”

“Mmm, but you didn’t.” Challenge set in his eyes as he turns.

“And what would you have done if I’d said something?”

“Well, what would you say?” I ask back, narrowing my eyes and biting on the straw of my drink.

“That you won’t find what you want with that pretty boy,” he says it low and deep, like a caress, as he stalks forward again.

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