Page 84 of Between Here and There

But I care. Oh, I care way too much.

Something claws at my chest, sharp and insistent, no matter how much I try to shove it down. Who is David? A coworker? An ex? Someone trying to weasel his way into a spot I’m not even sure I’m allowed to claim?

Relax, Josh. You’re just her friend.

But that’s the thing. I don’t want to be just her friend. I never have. Not when every moment with her feels like this—a little electric, a little terrifying, and entirely too good to let slip away.

She ends the call with a quick, “See you tomorrow,” and slips the phone back into her bag.

“Sorry about that,” she says, smiling like nothing’s happened.

“David, huh?” I say, keeping my tone neutral.

She nods, brushing imaginary lint off her sleeve. “Yeah, he’s one of the regulars at the café. He’s been trying to convince me to teach him latte art.”

Latte art? Really? Is she buying this?

“Sounds… intense,” I say, my voice laced with sarcasm before I can stop myself.

She raises an eyebrow. “Is that jealousy I hear?”

I scoff, though it comes out too sharp to be convincing. I sit up straighter, forcing a smirk. “Please. Just didn’t realize latte art was such an in-demand skill. What’s next? You teaching him how to fold napkins into swans?” I make a triangle motion with my hands.

“Oh, don’t underestimate latte art,” she says as she tries to hold back a laugh.

I lean closer, my eyes narrowing as I meet her gaze. “I’m not underestimating anything. I’m just curious why this David guy needs private lessons from you and not, you know, YouTube.”

She laughs softly, shaking her head. “He’s just a nice guy trying to pick up a hobby. You don’t need to interrogate him.”

“Interrogate?” I repeat, my voice dropping into something low and teasing. “Emily, I haven’t even started yet. If I were interrogating, I’d ask why he scheduled his ‘lessons’ during lunch breaks. Or why he couldn’t find another barista to teach him.”

Her cheeks flush, and she tries to brush it off with a wave of her hand. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?” I tilt my head, studying her. “Because I think you’re avoiding the real question here.”

She blinks, caught off guard. “And what question is that?”

I lean back, feigning nonchalance, though my voice comes out with a sharp edge. “Whether he’s just a guy looking for latte tips or someone trying to get close to you.”

Emily stares at me for a beat, her lips parting slightly in surprise. Then she smirks, leaning in just enough that I can catch the faintest hint of her perfume. That floral, feminine scent that’s like a drug. “And why does it matter to you, Joshua?”

Because I like you.“I’m just… concerned,” I say.

“Well, thanks for your concern.” She smiles.

Okay, that’s it. Call me jealous, call me petty, call me anything you want. Justdon’tcall me Emily’s friend. Because starting today, I’ll do everything to be more than that.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Emily

We almost kissed last night. I can’t let that happen again.

The thought loops in my head as I move around the kitchen, cracking eggs into a bowl and whisking them like my life depends on it. The smell of coffee fills the air, a familiar comfort in an otherwise disorienting situation. I’m in Joshua Santiago’s apartment, cooking breakfast, pretending I didn’t spend half the night replaying that almost-kiss in my mind.

Get it together, Emily.

I grab my phone from the counter and prop it up, ready for the usual FaceTime with my friends. The distraction is welcome, and it’s time for their weekly dose of chaos anyway.

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