Page 67 of The Strike Zone

My cheeks were beginning to ache from how much I was enjoying watching her try to find me. I’d stay here all day, but the pull of being face to face was too strong.

I stepped forward a little. “I’m behind the middle pillar down the side.”

“What are you doing standing there?” she asked, her eyes scouring the space until they locked on mine.

“Because I didn’t want anyone else to spot me after I ordered your revolting coffee, it’s too embarrassing.”

Her perfectly arched brows shot up. “I thought you said Lions pride themselves on being embarrassed.”

“We have to draw a line someplace, this is my line.” I grinned as she stopped in front of me, arms crossed over her chest.

My grin widened as her foot tapped a little annoyed beat. Man,this girl.If my hands weren’t full, I’d wrap my arms around her, pick her up, and swing her around. Instead, I stood there, taking a second to soak her in while her brows knitted even further, her lips pursed a little tighter.

I’d never been so desperate to kiss someone in my entire life.

I’d even settle for brushing against one of her perfectly rounded cheeks. But while I was certain she’d missed me, I was also certain we weren’t at the greetings-kiss stage, and I knew without doubt that the first time I kissed her wasn’t going to be surrounded by a bunch of Lions fans, plus all the people who’d escaped their offices for a morning coffee.

But she sure was cute when she was annoyed. If possible, it made her eyes seem even bluer, matching the color of this morning’s cloudless sky.

“Hi.”

I clicked my headphones off, ending our call. “Hey there.”

Her gaze flicked to my hands, and back, frown still very much present. “What’s that?”

I held one of the coffees out to her. “Your coffee.”

“What’s it in?”

I glanced down at the cup, mashing my lips together as hard as possible to stop the grin becoming crazed.

“A travel cup I thought you might like. A gift.” I pushed it out to her again. “And I put your coffee in it.”

She peered around my hands at the reusable coffee cup I’d picked up on the way here.

If I hadn’t gotten it for free, it would have been the best fifteen dollars I’d ever spent. In my rush to see Scout, I’d arrived early, happened to spot the Lions store staff prepping for the day’s opening, and my eyes landed on this beauty in the window.

I hadn’t even known they’d existed. But now I did, I’d be buying them as gifts for all my coffee-loving friends.

“It’s your jersey…”

“Yes.” I grinned, turning the cup around. “And my number. We can work up to the stage where you’re wearing my actual jersey to games, but this is good enough for now.”

She took it from me, our fingertips brushing enough that we both felt the shock between us. Not shock.Spark.

Yeah, we had a fucking spark all right.

“You know,” she started, before clearing her throat, “some would interpret this as saying you think my coffee is so good it deserves its own special cup.”

“Uh-uh. Nope.” I shook my head. “That’s not what this was. I told you, this is purely about you forming a relationship with my shirt. It’s a gateway to wearing it.”

“Hmm.” Her shoulders lifted in some kind of half-assed shrug. “Well, I see it differently. I think you love my delicious coffee.” She giggled through a sip. “Mmm, delicious.”

“I don’t. This”—I tapped on the cup—“is a favor. I’m raising your cool points because it tells everyone you’re clearly a Parker King fan, while also making drinking the coffee less embarrassing for you.”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

I leaned in closer. “You should be.”

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