“Hey, Blane,” she whispered, her brows pinched in a V of confusion.
“Hi, Ava,” I said quietly.
“My roommate said to give you this.”
She pulled out a heart-shaped sticky note with Vicki and a number written in red lipstick, but I gave her an apologetic smile and waved it away.
“Um, thanks, but it’s not a good time. I don’t want her to be disappointed.” I pushed back my hood, thinking, I must be losing my mind. Keeping my voice low, I said, “I was wondering what the girl in the corner is drinking, and I’d like you to make another.”
“Who? The plain girl from the other day? Catie with a C?” Returning to her regular voice, Ava said, “She’s wearing earbuds.”
“Oh. Do you know what she’s drinking?”
“Yeah, a full-fat latte. Can you believe that? Who drinks that? No one I know.”
“I didn’t ask that. How ’bout you make me another?” I shoved a few bucks in the tip jar and slapped a ten on the counter.
“What about you, Blane? Want something?”
“You know what? I’ll have a hot cocoa. Full-fat and whipped.”
I watched Ava turn toward her expensive coffee machine and frown at my lack of appreciation of her charms. Steam filled her face, and yeah, she was hot—but a bitch. That used to do it for me, but not anymore.
With the latte and cocoa in my hands, I made my way toward the corner. I set the drinks down on the table next to Cate before tapping her on the shoulder.
“Holy shit!” She jumped in her seat, nearly toppling the pile of work in front of her. “You scared the hell out of me.”
God, I love her foul mouth.
She pulled out her earbuds, letting them dangle above her cleavage. My eyes automatically shifted down, appreciating the view, and I quickly raised them to her face. When she cocked her head and raised an eyebrow, I felt a smile tug at my lips but schooled it.
“I brought you a refill.” I grabbed the paper cups and swung them over to her table.
“Really? Let me get you some money.” She reached around her back and snatched her bag.
“It’s on me.”
“Why?” She turned her dark eyes on me, her brow furrowing. Indignation practically seeped from her pores.
“Just being nice, Cate. That’s it. No ulterior motive.”
She raised an eyebrow again.
“May I sit?”
“Go right ahead.”
“So, what’re you doing?” I asked, taking a sip of my dessert in a cup. God, that shit was sweet.
“I’m researching a paper for my women’s studies class.”
“Really?” I had to remind myself to swallow. Otherwise I would have spit out my drink.
“It’s my major.”
“And you’re putting up with Sonny? All this time, I thought you were finding your own way, but a women’s libber taking his shit? No way.”
“Shh,” she hissed. “I need that internship. I told you. Unlike some people who flaunt their muscles and have tuition, stipends, and steak dinners thrown at them, I need the work/study program.”
“Really? You’re going to go there?” I raised an eyebrow back at her.
“No, sorry. I know you’re talented.”
“Believe me, I get it, needing money. I come from nothing. My dad sends me some ’cause he knows I’ll repay him. But yes, I get a lot of fringe benefits.”
“Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure.”
I leaned back in my chair, studying her. Cate smelled good, like citrus and home. I was from Florida—kill me, but oranges, lemons, and mangos smelled like home.
“So, tell me, is this what the big, bad jock does when he’s sworn off sex?” Leaning over, she sniffed my drink. “Drinks hot chocolate and stalks chubby girls?”
“What?” I leaned across the table. “What do you mean?”
“Sorry to insult your manliness, but that is hot chocolate? With whipped cream.” She swiped her finger across my lip, smoothing away a whipped-cream mustache.
“No, I meant that . . . the other comment. I can’t even say it.”
“What? About chubby girls?”
“Would you stop?”
“I’m sitting here eating a scone. How many girls do you date who eat, let alone enjoy a scone in your company? I’m betting zero.”
“Well, you’re not every girl.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m the one you befriend when you can’t have any others.”
I pinched off a piece of her scone and held it to her lips. “I guess I just have to shut you up with pastries.”
She opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around the pastry. The tip of her tongue grazed my finger and set my cock aflame. This was something new—she did have a point when she said that. Getting turned on by feeding smart and sassy women baked goods was a very new thing, and I liked it.
She swallowed and took a sip of her latte before asking, “So, you ready?”
“For what?”
“The season.”
“You telling me you actually care?”