Page 84 of Blush Crush

We never discussed our boundaries when it comes to public displays of affection, and while I think I would’ve been firmly on team no PDA, I can confidently say I’ve broadened my horizons.

His mouth moves over mine, our tongues twining in a way that feels familiar now. Everything about Cole is starting to feel familiar.

There’s a small, rational part of my brain that’s wondering who this display is for. There aren’t many people in the shop, and those that are aren’t particularly gossipy or anything. But maybe it’s not really for anyone, but more to keep up appearances. Anyone could walk in or pass by. I tell myself that’s what this is. That’s all it is.

After all, word officially spread across town that we’re a couple. Shelby, Shane’s on-again, off-again situationship, told someone who told someone who told everyone because that’s small-town living at its finest.

I don’t mind that people know. What I mind is that knowing people know makes it feel more real than it is, and I wasn’t prepared for that. I can’t decide if what we’re doing is sad—because it isn’t real—or good, because it’s giving me exactly what I wanted. Experience. Practice. Something to awaken a part of me I wasn’t sure existed.

Eventually Cole drops his forehead to mine, his breath dusting across my ravished lips.

“I came in for a croissant. Talk about escalation.”

I laugh and take a step back before I get pulled back in again.

The goal is to appear convincing, but not to the point we look like horny teenagers sucking face in broad daylight.

Moving behind the counter, I put even more distance between us. “I’ll box up your croissant. You want anything else?”

“Surprise me.” He leans over, resting both elbows on the marble bar. He’s dressed in his workwear, a crisp blue button-down and khaki slacks. He looks stupidly good. Everything is perfectly tailored to his body, the linen fabric of his shirt pulling taut over his thick biceps. His handsome face is practically a crime paired with that body. There should be rules preventing such a combination from occurring. It’s too much power for one person to hold. Especially a man who’s more than aware of it.

“You like what you see, doll?” He lifts a brow, his tone teasing.

A warmth rushes to my cheeks at the same time my pulse picks up in a giddy gallop. “Maybe.” I giggle.

What is he doing to me? I’ve never been this girl. Giggly and squirmy and distracted. So, so distracted. Maybe orgasms shut off parts of the brain. Because I really can’t explain it.

I finish boxing up his croissant and get to work on making a drink. I make him one of my favorites, adding extra vanilla because he has a bit of a sweet tooth.

He takes a sip after I slide it over to him, an appreciative moan slipping out of him.

“What is this?” He takes another sip, like he’s surprised he likes it.

“Earl grey tea, steamed milk, and vanilla. It’s called a London Fog.”

“I like it. I actually like it.”

I’m slightly confused. He’s never complained about any drinks I’ve made, but now I’m wondering if he didn’t like them. Or maybe he’s been trying to figure out what he likes.

“Do you always order the daily special because you’re trying to find your drink or do you just like variety?”

He shrugs, looking away as if the small crowd in the shop is suddenly fascinating. “Something like that.”

His answer is cryptic. He’s not telling me the whole truth.

Not that it’s that serious since we’re just talking about silly drink orders, but I have to admit my curiosity is piqued.

Whatever he’s hiding, I’ll find out eventually. I’m determined to.

“I didn’t stop in for no reason,” he starts. “I was wondering if you’re free Friday night.”

I nod. “I think so. But I’m closing so I won’t be free until after four.”

“That’s fine. Dinner is at six.”

“Dinner?”

“Dinner at Casa de Benton. My mother is dying to get to know my new girlfriend.”