God, I’d hate to be the person on the other end of that email. Frustration beat against my temples, and I reached out to poke him hard in the shoulder. He flinched but didn’t deign to turn around.
“Excuse me, Lord of the Line Cutters, is the world just one big VIP section to you?”
“Does harassing strangers count as cardio or are you just naturally exhausting?” he snapped, his focus still clearly locked on the screen.
What the frick?
“Hey, buddy, I’m not the one who just cut the entire line.” I heard murmurs of agreement from the people behind me. But the jerk’s only response was a dismissive noise. Had he just scoffed at me? Hell to the freaking no! “Maybe if you’d take your nose out of your phone for two seconds and have some basic human decency?—”
“Is this the part where you yell louder and hope it makes you relevant?”
Screw this guy! “Look,” I said, raising my voice, “it sucks that your PA couldn’t do your coffee run for you, but even toddlers know how lines work. So why don’t you try absorbingthatconcept instead of the blue light from your phone?”
A few people in line behind me started snickering. The sound emboldened me a little, but the little surge of triumph died a quick death when Fancy-Pants chose that exact moment to whirl around, huffing like an angry bull.
My blood iced over.
My entire body froze to the spot for a beat as recognition smacked me like a two-by-four. You’ve got to be kidding me.
I knew that brown hair. I knew those broad shoulders. I knew that stupidly perfect face with its chin dimple and square jaw and perpetual scowl. His dark brown eyes bored into mine, recognition dawning for him as well.
Liam freaking Lockhart.
Of all the freaking coffee shops in the city, my brother’s gorgeous-and-totally-off-limits best friend had to show up here? Today just kept getting better and better. And by that I meant disastrously worse.
“Mia?” he said when he finally realized who I was.
I straightened like I hadn’t been gearing up to throw a cookie at his head. “Oh, so now you see me?”
“Look, I get it, I just didn’t see you sta?—”
“What, standing here?” I crossed my arms. If Jake had been with him, I’d have reined in my rage for my brother’s sake…but what Jake didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and this was looking like the perfect outlet for my very bad morning. “Why is that? Entitlement blocking your view?”
His eyes narrowed. “I’d say it’s your attitude and not mine that’s taking all of the oxygen out of the room.”
“My attitude? You’re the one acting like you should have a red carpet and velvet ropes set out for you.”
“I didn’t realize there was a line captain I had to report to.”
“Can’t you buy some basic decency to go with all that Armani?” I shot back.
“You tell him, girl,” someone in the crowd called out behind me.
“Must be nice thinking you own the place,” someone else said.
Liam’s expression hardened. His jaw clenched like he was holding back words he knew he’d regret. “What is this, some kind of uprising?” he said, voice heavy with sarcasm. “It’s just a line, Mia. Don’t make such a federal case out of it.”
“If being a rude asshole was actually a crime, you’d be public enemy number one,” I shot back. “I’m thinking life sentence, no chance of parole.”
He rolled his eyes, like I was a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Why does everything have to be so over the top with you?” he grumbled, low and rough.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, voice syrup-sweet. “Are we not all just humble extras in the Liam Lockhart Cinematic Universe?” His scowl deepened. “Actually, scratch that, pretty sure extras are treated with more respect.”
The irritation radiating off him was practically visible, like heat waves dancing over asphalt. So I went in for the kill.
“Pick your next words carefully,” I warned him. “Or else you’ll be seeing them again soon, coming out of Miles’s mouth.”
Miles, the scowling, grumbling, brooding, bad-boy character from my viral webcomicHeart and Hustlewas a fan favorite and a source of great aggravation for Liam. We both knew exactly where Miles’s worst traits had come from.