Page 17 of Voice to Raise
Maybe.
Probably.
The barista handed me my sandwich in a little paper bag. “There you go,” He batted his eyelashes.
I smiled. “Thanks for this.” I caught his grin turning into a pout just as I pivoted to head toward the door where Blossom waited.
“Grindstone’s performing tonight, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” I eyed the rain. “Does it look like it might ease up?”
“Nope. We’re just going to have to run for it.”
“Our hair is going to get wet.”
She cocked her head. “Yeah, sorry about that. Not that I can control the weather or anything. I mean, we could just try to wait it out—”
“Heavy all day.” The barista, who was wiping the coffee stand, offered us a sheepish smile.
I wasn’t entirely thrilled he’d been eavesdropping, but this was a coffeeshop—so discretion and privacy weren’t exactly guaranteed.
“I don’t suppose you have a spare umbrella.” Blossom gave him her most-charming smile.
You bat for the wrong team, dear.Not that they guy couldn’t do it out of the goodness of his heart.
He shook his head. “Sorry. My mom drops me off and picks me up.”
I blinked. The guy had to be about my age. At least I was driving myself around by the time I was nineteen. Admittedly in her car, but at least I’d been independent and mobile.
“Well, thanks.” Blossom turned to me. “We run?”
I clicked the remote to unlock the door. “We run.”
And we did.
Both completely soaked by the time we shut the car doors.
She giggled. “Okay, that was refreshing.”
“Just be glad we didn’t have any paperwork.” I flipped on the defogger to clear the windshield. “You don’t want to come over?”
“Date.”
I pointed to the clock. “In, like, five hours.”
She grabbed a lock of her straggly wet hair.
I sighed, started the car, and pulled out of the spot. The windshields were clear, so I was able to drive without a problem. I kept my speed on the low side, though, because the sheets of rain made visibility tough. “Good thing we were out yesterday and not today. What happened to all that sun?”
“Storm coming in off the Pacific. That happens in the autumn, you know.”
“And it’s only going to get worse. We’re in for another dreary winter.” I stopped at a red light.
“Yeah?” She pulled a compact out of her huge purse and started fluffing her hair. “How do you know this stuff?”
“How do you not know this stuff?” I gestured to her phone with my elbow. “You’re always on that thing. You don’t check weather and news?”
“Uh…I have notifications and stuff for certain things—weather isn’t one of them. Oh, but the Canucks won last night.”
