Page 32 of Scars of Anatomy


Font Size:

My hand tingles, and I’m mesmerized by how good it feels to have her hand fit in mine so perfectly.

We finally reach the coffee shop, and I hold the door open for her, making it a point to not let go of her hand just yet. The strong scent of coffee hangs in the air, and thankfully it’s not too busy in here.

I lead us to the end of the line and look down at her quizzical face.

“Pick out whatever you want. It’s my treat,” I say, giving her hand a small squeeze.

Her eyes soften, looking at me for a few beats before darting to the menu. She cringes, her expression flooding with guilt. “I’m not really a coffee drinker,” she timidly admits.

“That’s okay. The pastry selection here is amazing. Girls love sweets when they’re having a bad day, don’t they?”

Her bottom lip pokes out in an adorable pout. “Bronx, really, you don’t have to do this,” she insists.

“Hey.” I give her hand another squeeze. “You had a bad day. I want to make you feel better. Now what would you like?” I ask as we get closer to the counter and stand in front of a display case, which showcases numerous pastries.

“Bronx,” she protests again.

“Sorry, I’m not on the menu, sweetheart, but if you really want a taste of me—ow!” I feign hurt, rubbing the center of my chest where she playfully hits me with her free hand.

“Hi, what can I get you?” the barista behind the cash register greets us as soon as the person in front of us moves.

I look down at Olivia expectantly, and she shoots me a glare despite the grin trying to break across her face.

“I’ll take a blueberry muffin,” she tells the cashier.

“And I’ll take a small cold brew with a double chocolate brownie,” I say, knowing I’ll need the coffee to get through practice later.

The cashier rambles off the total and I’m a bit bummed when I have to let go of Olivia’s hand to take my card out of my wallet. Once I’m finished paying, I have Olivia go find a table while I wait for our orders.

“You don’t like coffee?” I ask as soon as we get settled, taking a drink from my cup.

She shakes her head. “Not really. Plus, I’ve seen how wired it can make Delilah, so I don’t know if my heart would be able to handle all the caffeine if I drank it frequently,” she laughs.

I nod, pinching off a piece of my brownie as she nibbles on her blueberry muffin.

“Speaking of Delilah,” I mention casually. “Were you serious when you said you’d tutor one of her friends?”

“Yeah.”

I nod, suddenly finding interest in a chocolate chip that falls out of my brownie.

Come on, Bronx. Do it. Ask her!

I bite the inside of my cheek, my pride clawing at me to keep quiet.

Just do it, you pussy!

How is it I can ask any girl to sleep with me, but the one girl I actually like I can’t even ask to tutor me?

Just think of all the extra time you’d get to spend with her,I try to persuade myself.

“Finch?” I ask.

“Hmm?”

“Would you tutor me? In anatomy.”

God, I sound so pathetic.