Page 36 of The Fangirl and the Grump

Willow shakes her head again, then lunges forward to take my hands in hers. “No. This is agoodthing.”

“It is?”

“Yes,” she says, her smile returning. “It means helikesyou.”

“I don’t think so, Willow,” I say remembering my blunder during our text conversation yesterday.

When I backpedaled and assured him I knew he didn’t feel anything romantic toward me, he didn’t correct me. I gave him the perfect opening, and he let it pass right by.

“He just felt bad,” I go on. “I dumped all of my problems on him Saturday night, and hearing my story made him feel guilty for being an ass. That’s all it was.”

She releases my hands and props her fists on her hips. “If that’s all it was, he would’ve just apologized. And stopped being an ass. He wouldn’t take you to our childhood home just so you can fangirl over a movie franchise he hates. No. I know my brother. There’s more to this. Trust me.”

She pauses for a moment to let that sink in, but when I open my mouth to argue, she shakes her head and cuts me off.

“Do you like him? I mean, would you, like, date him?”

My head rears back. “Why are you asking me that like you want me to say yes?”

And she is. The hope in her eyes shines bright.

“He’s my brother, and I love him, but he’s a grumpy bastard most of the time. Seeing him with you, he’s different. Lighter, somehow. And with what he did for you yesterday… I don’t know. I think you’re good for him.”

“You’re insane,” I say flippantly even though my heart pounds in my chest at her words. “He doesn’t like me. He felt bad for me. That’s all.”

“I know what I know,” she says on a sigh. “Let’s get back to work. We open in twenty, and Mondays are usually busy first thing.”

As we finish the opening routine and the first customers start trickling in, my thoughts keep going back to our conversation and the interactions I’ve had with Trace since I arrived in Evening Shade.

Yes, he’s a grumpy bastard most of the time, just like Willow said. But that’s honestly a part of his charm. Because if he weren’t normally so gruff, those sweet moments, the honest smiles and warm laughs wouldn’t make me feel so special.

And he’s hot. There’s no denying that. Tall and muscular. Thick, dark hair with the lightest sprinkling of silver. I even like his beard, and not just because it makes him look like Wolf Daddy. It makes him look likehim.

He’s kind of charming when he’s not actively trying to be an ass, and I wasn’t lying when I told him knowing he hid such a sweet, gooey center beneath that grumpy exterior is a reward in itself. It feels like we share a secret. Like I’m already in his inner circle.

And the way my body reacts when he looks at me. Smiles at me. Laughs and jokes with me…

Yeah.I like him.

But to what end? He’s thirteen years older than me, and while I don’t really see that as a problem, I’m sure Trace does. Aside from that, I’m leaving in a few weeks. What’s the point of getting involved with someone when it can’t possibly last?

The phenomenal sex?

Oh, yeah. There’s no doubt in my mind it would be amazing with Trace. He exudes pure animal magnetism, and I’d probably lose consciousness from how hard he could make me come.

I startle back to reality when the door swings open and the object of my spicy fantasies walks through the door.Shit.Can he see what I was thinking on my face?Fuck.

“Hey,” I say aloud, my voice cracking on the word. Ducking my head and clearing my throat, I ask, “Regular drip?”

“You remembered,” he says, his lips curling upward at the corners.

I feel myself relax. “Well, it’s not like it’s a complicated order. I do havesomebrains in my head.”

My sass level is at a ten, and I can tell he likes it by the way his smile widens, showing a row of straight, white teeth.

“Oh, my God, Trace. What is wrong with your face?”

Willow’s loud exclamation startles me as she materializes beside me out of nowhere. She’s staring at her brother with exaggerated shock. I’m a little confused for a second, then distracted again when I look back at Trace to see his smile has grown even wider.

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