Page 66 of Love at Second Down

My thoughts scatter as I try to reason why he might be messaging her. Is this the first time he’s reached out since their date? Is she interested in him? Just because she has unresolved feelings for me and we have a history, doesn’t mean she can’t develop feelings for someone else.

Shit.

“I should get inside before I’m late,” she says, glancing at the door, oblivious to my inner turmoil.

“Yeah, of course.” I force a smile, trying to mask the unease creeping through me. “I’ll see you tonight?”

She nods, her eyes searching mine for a moment before she rises on her tiptoes and presses a quick kiss to my cheek. “See you tonight, QB.”

I watch her disappear inside, the bell above the door jingling as it closes behind her. The spot where her lips touched my skin burns pleasantly, a stark contrast to the cold knot in my chest.

Chapter 20

AVERY

It’s been seventy-two hours, and I can still taste him on my lips. Three whole days have passed since Damon kissed me, and I swear the memory is etched into my skin like a roadmap to my heart.

I wipe down the espresso machine one final time, my reflection warped in its chrome surface, and I can’t help but smile at the girl staring back. Somehow, she looks different than she did just a few days ago. Hopeful. Happy.

“You sure you don’t need help closing?” Cara asks, already untying her apron.

“I’ve got it,” I say, trying to sound casual. Like my heart isn’t doing somersaults in my chest. “Just need to count the drawer and I’m out.”

Cara raises an eyebrow, her lips turning into a grin. “You’re happy tonight. Hot date?”

“Nah. Just dropping off notes,” I say, but the blush spreading across my cheeks betrays me.

“Riiiiight,” she drawls. “And I’m sure it’s not one of the hot football players that were in here the other day, is it?”

I say nothing, biting my lip to hide my smile as she shrugs her coat on and heads for the door. “I expect to hear all about it when I see you next” she calls out, and I laugh, turning for the registers.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m locking the front door of Java the Hutt, my backpack slung over one shoulder. Inside is my meticulously organized notebook for Professor Karr’s class—the one Damon has missed on account of me. The one where he’d been avoiding me up until now.

The wintry night air bites at my cheeks as I walk, tugging my coat tighter against the cold. I’m halfway down the block, already imagining the way his green eyes darken with intensity every time he looks at me when my phone buzzes with a text.

Fishing it out of my coat pocket, I check the screen.

QB:

Still coming over?

Three simple words that make my pulse quicken.

I begin to type back, unable to contain my smile, when the sound of an engine slowing behind me catches my attention. Headlights illuminate the sidewalk, casting my shadow in front of me, long and distorted. A sleek black SUV pulls alongside the curb. Its tinted windows are too dark to see inside but reflect the streetlights, and when I glance down to the front bumper and see the familiar Pennsylvania plates, my stomach twists.

I know that car. Those plates.

When the back window slowly slides down with a soft electronic hum, I hold my breath, my thoughts racing.

What the hell are they doing here?

“Avery.” My father’s voice slices through the air like a steel blade?cold and precise?his presence every bit as commanding as always when he appears in the window frame. His dark eyes are hard as he sets his sights on me. “Get in the car.”

It’s not a request. It never is with him.

“Why?” I ask, wary as I glance from him to the waiting SUV.

“It’s time to stop running from your real life and go home.”

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