Page 18 of Getting Over You

“I ordered a black coffee,” he says to me, an edge of warning in his voice.

“Iordered a black coffee,” I reply, not dropping my hand.

We’ve reached an impasse. I can’t believe I have the same coffee order as someone so dark and broody.

The barista looks uncomfortable. “That one’s his,” she tells me, quick and distinct.

I furrow my bow at her as she pours steamed milk into a cup. Presumably, my mother’s macchiato. She fits on a lid and a decorative sleeve and hands it over without smiling. “Here’s yours. One macchiato, one coffee.”

Cade falls into step behind me as I leave the shop.

“She put her number on it,” Cade says once we’re outside.

I halt, whirling around to face him. “What?”

“The difference,” he tells me, stormy gray eyes meeting mine, “in our coffees? One had her number on it. That’s why it was for me.”

I scoff. “Good to know.” I hate that the realization is encouraging jealousy to well in my stomach.

“I know that you wondered,” he says. “I could see it on your face.”

“I couldn’t care less, really,” I tell him. “But thanks.” The butterflies in my stomach are screaming otherwise.

“It was the tattoos,” Cade chides. I can hear the smile, almost feel the sting of his dimples ripping through. “It’s always the tattoos.”

My eyes roll of their own volition. “Is part of your kink talking about how hot and awesome you are?” I ask. “Because I’ve never been more turned off in my life.”

“Then it’s a good thing I already know not to try impressing you, huh?” Cade says, smirking. He takes a sip from his coffee. “What are you doing today, princess?”

“I helped Belinda at the restaurant.” I point to the diner. “Someone quit yesterday. Turns out she thought I’d be happy to help. And I told you, nicknames are a no-go. Stop it.”

Cade’s eyes gleam. “Well, you helped, didn’t you?”

“Not happily.” I shake my head. “I’m exhausted, and my head hurts so bad I feel like my brain might bust free from my skull. And don’t even get me started on my feet.”

“All that for somebody you don’t like.” Cade shakes his head. “Don’t do nice things for shit people, princess.”

That’s easier said than done, but I appreciate his concern. “Stop calling me that,” I snap. “And Belinda’s not shit. You don’t know her. She’s just confused—troubled.”

“Rory told me about the Coke thing,” Cade says as he blows out a breath.

“Great,” I say. “Another person here who’s going to analyze everything and tell me how to fix things.” It warms my heart that he even cares, even if I am annoyed with his desire to fix it.

“I’m not,” he says. “But for what it’s worth, tell her when she oversteps.”

“I haven’t done that ever,” I admit. “I’m not going to start now. It’ll make my life much harder than it already is.”

“Kind of like how you’re not going to suddenly start being attracted to me?” Cade challenges, stepping closer to me and meeting my gaze with dark eyes.

I step back, taking a lungs-filling breath and avert my gaze. Yes, Cade, for the exact same reason: life will get harder. “Exactly.”

Cade readjusts, like he’s coming back to after being lost in himself. “So, what now?”

“I definitely willnotbe telling Belinda about all of her transgressions.”

“I meant with your afternoon. You’re done working, right?”

I blink. “I… Yeah. I’m done working. But my mother’s my ride, so.”

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