Page 62 of My Cosplay Escape
I don’t know. Do I?
You do. Pick you up at 9:00 AM?
I’ve got work that night.
I’ll get you back in time.
It’s no big. Because we aren’t anything. We aren’t going to become anything. Like I’d be interested after the other night. I have my pride. I mean, maybe we’re friends. But that’s fine. We don’t need to be more. And a friend would go with another friend to a convention. I mean, it would be suspicious if I said no.
Okay. Sure.
Text me your address.
I’ve got a better idea.
* * *
I ask for a table on the patio. It is a gorgeous Friday morning with just the right amount of marine layer to make sunglasses unnecessary. The ocean lolls below me in a sedate, untroubled way. Sometimes, especially at Law Street Beach, the Pacific looks downright lazy.
I’ve read Frank Herbert’sDuneenough to know I’m asking for trouble sitting with my back to the entrance, but I don’t want to watch for Adam. I don’t want to know what it feels like to see him smile as he walks toward me. What if something happens? What if my heart explodes, and some stupid pop song starts blasting in my head about how hecould bethe one,and there is no denying my feelings? Nope. I’m not doing that. I’m not taking the chance that I choke on my water because he’s even sexier than I realized.
All the same, my neck tingles with that ASMR buzz when I hear Adam walk in and ask for me. “I like the way you think, Hoodie,” he says when he finds me.
Goldfish, his voice is delicious. I force aside a shiver as goose bumps flush over my skin.
Thankfully, Adam slides into the chair opposite me and doesn’t notice.
“Sarah,” I correct. “You’re not calling me Hoodie all day.”
“Sarah,” he repeats with a smile. His Ray-Bans are tucked into the neck of his cobalt blue T-shirt. “Come here often?”
