Mabel clears her throat loudly.
“Um, have you met my friends Mabel and Fiona?” I ask. They both stand next to the barista bar, watching my every move and waiting for my big moment. But now that Lucian’s here, I have no idea how to make that happen.
“I’ve seen them around town. It’s good to see you ladies again.” He lifts a hand in a quick wave before turning back to me. “So youdohave a social life.” His mouth quirks.
“Of course I do,” I say a little too defensively. “I don’t just hang out with Henry all the time.”
Okay, that’s a bald-faced lie.But I don’t want him to think I’m pathetic.
“She’s coming over for girls’ night,” Mabel says, jumping to my defense like the good friend she is.
I give her a grateful look before she adds with a wicked grin, “We’re going to eat guacamole, watch a rom-com, and discuss the tragic wasteland that is her dating life. You know, normal Thursday night activities.”
I give her a look that saysI will hide your body where no one will ever find itbefore turning to pour his coffee with hands that are definitely not showing my nerves.Nope.Steady as a rock.
“Sounds…educational,” he says, clearly trying not to laugh.
This is my big moment. I should say something charming.
“Oh, it’s notthattragic,” I say quickly, shooting my friends another warning glare. “Just, you know, I’m selective.Veryselective.”
My first test and I’ve spectacularly failed.
“Don’t let her fool you,” Mabel stage-whispers behind her hand. “She hasn’t been on a date since the Nate Disaster. She’s out of practice and basically a hermit at this point.”
I lean across the counter and slap my hand over her mouth before she can reveal any more embarrassing details about my nonexistent love life. “What shemeansto say is that I’m taking a well-deserved break from the dating scene.” I clear my throat. “So, what brings you to our humble establishment today?”
“Just stopping in to pick up my order,” he says, “but this conversation is far more interesting.”
I tilt my head, giving my friends alook what you’ve done nowglare. “As you can see, my friends have mistaken me for someone who requires a wingman for coffee orders.”
Lucian glances at my friends, who are trying and failing to look innocent. If they smiled any bigger, their faces would crack.
“See?” I say. “Totally delusional. They’ve been watching too many reruns ofGilmore Girlsand completely lost touch with reality.” I slide his coffee across the counter. “Anything else I can get you?”
“The cupcake order,” he says. “I need to make a delivery.”
“Those were foryou?” I ask, frowning.
“Not mine. I’m just the delivery guy.”
“Oh, well, they’re in the storage room fridge if you want to help me carry them.” I take one last look at the girls as I pass by them. They’re both giving me thumbs up like I just successfully parallel parked a twelve-passenger van.
What’s worse is that I still haven’t flirted with Lucian because I have zero idea how to be charming without completely embarrassing myself. What am I supposed to say? “Nice flannel, want to see my cupcakes?”
I shake my head and mouthabsolutely noton my way to the storage room.
“So, who are you playing delivery boy for today?” I ask, pushing the key into the lock and heading inside the storage room. Shelves and boxes crowd the door. The tight quarters suddenly feels about the size of a phone booth, with a fridge and boxes crammed into every available inch. Lucian is forced tostand close—like,uncomfortably close—because there’s barely enough room for one person.
“It’s a surprise…for a lady friend.”
“Lady friend?” I whirl around in surprise, bumping into Lucian, and there it is—that sharp little stab of jealousy that I have absolutely no right to feel.Is Lucian dating someone?I hate the way it creates this weird knot in my chest, like I’m actually bothered that someone else gets his time and attention instead of me.
But why does it matter if Lucian buys cupcakes for other women?
He’sjustmy neighbor. My highly attractive, incredibly helpful neighbor who smells like crisp autumn air and fixes things with the kind of competence that might be flirting in another form.
Because there’s something very attractive about a man who’s handy. The kind of man who just does things, not because he’s asked to, but because he genuinely cares.
