Page 6 of Faking the Shot
And just like that, I’m in trouble.
He’s even hotter than I remember, exuding an effortless confidence that makes him look like he just stepped out of a fitness ad. His stubble is thicker now, his jawline somehow sharper, and the way he moves—like he owns every room he walks into—is maddening.
I snap my gaze forward, determined to focus. Latte. Muffin. Nothing else matters.
He probably doesn’t even remember me. I’m sure he meets women every day, and just like that, they’re erased from his mind, filed away underforgettable encounters.
“Hello, Trivia Queen,” his familiar voice calls from behind me, a teasing lilt in his tone.
Damn it.
I glance over my shoulder, and there he is, grinning at me like he’s been waiting all week for this moment. His dark eyes lock onto mine, and I can feel the heat of his attention, warm and unnervingly persistent.
“KC,” I say, keeping my tone flat. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Could say the same about you,” he replies, stepping closer, his grin widening. “I’ve been coming here every day, and this is the first time I’ve seen you.”
I turn my attention back to the counter. “Don’t tell me you’ve been hanging out at coffee shops all week, hoping to run into me.”
“Would it be so bad if I had?” he shoots back, his voice low enough that it sends an unwelcome flutter through my chest.
Before I can respond, the barista behind the counter clears her throat, her gaze bouncing between us. “Next customer?”
I step forward to place my order, but KC beats me to it. “Whatever she’s having,” he says, flashing the barista a quick smile.
I narrow my eyes at him. “What are you doing?”
“Buying your coffee,” he says simply.
“Why?”
He shrugs. “Why not?”
My lips twitch, but I force myself to stay serious. “Why just me? What about everyone else here?”
His grin turns mischievous, and before I know it, he’s turning to the room and raising his voice. “Hey, everyone. Coffee’s on me this morning.”
A collective murmur of surprise ripples through the shop, followed by a round of applause and a few cheers. The barista’s eyes widen, and she looks like she’s simultaneously thrilled and panicked.
“You’re insane,” I mutter, shaking my head, but of course order my latte and a muffin. “Or at least ridiculous.”
“Or generous,” he counters, winking at me.
“Generous? You’re buying coffee for half of Boston,” I point out, though I can’t stop the smile tugging at my lips.
He steps closer, his voice dropping just enough for only me to hear. “I’ll admit, it started with you. But what’s the harm in spreading a little joy?”
“You’re a little extra, you know?”
He shrugs and asks, “So, do I get to join you, or are you strictly a solo-coffee kind of woman?”
The logical part of me knows I should say no. But then again, how often does someone this maddeningly charming buy the entire coffee shop drinks just because you challenged them?
“I wish I could, but I have work to do,” I say, shrugging one shoulder as if to say, What can you do? I’m very responsible.
He doesn’t miss a beat. “How about we exchange numbers?”
I tilt my head, pretending to consider it. “Hmm, tempting. But what would I even save you as? ‘KC: Trivia Night Guy Who Won’t Leave Me Alone’? Or maybe just ‘Nuisance’?”
