Page 50 of Tempting Me

It’s not just her body that gets under my skin.

It’s her wit. The way she can get me worked up because her mind is quick like mine. I love it. The way she keeps up in conversation with me. The way she tries, and fails, to hide her smile when I say something she likes. The way she taps her toe behind her right before she gives me a compliment while she’s looking at my work.

I love that she knows what she wants with The Marina and her life. I love that she’s focused.

I love a lot of her fire and passion in life, and holy fuck.

I think I’m crushing on Shay.

Shit.

My eyes spring open as this revelation takes over.

This is bad.

So, so bad.

What should I do?

Nothing. Of course. That would be a disaster. Her family would kill me.

The idea of us is impossible. It always has been.

Even knowing this, I have to let out a breath, because now that I’m aware of these feelings, the obstacles to why we don’t make sense seem irrelevant.

I back out of my parking spot, resisting the urge to go inside to make sure her date isn’t a creep.

I pop into one of the hardware stores a few blocks over for a few things then return to the bar, finding the first open parking spot. It’s in front of a bookstore, but I’m headed to thecoffee shop, Loves a Brewing, that’s connected to the bookstore. If I'm going to have to wait for Shay and remind myself that I can't ruin her date over something I just realized, I need caffeine. Plus, who knows how late this could go? I’m driving us back and need to stay awake.

Warm air brushes my skin as I step inside. The place is vacant. I’m not sure what time they close, but I assume it’s soon.

“Hi,” a woman greets me. “What can I get you?”

“Just a black coffee.”

She makes it quickly, and I pay then move to the middle of the store that connects to the bookstore.

I’m not the biggest reader in my family. That title now belongs to Sadie, but there is just something about being in a bookstore that I like.

I look up to the signs over each aisle, looking for the?—

“Oh, that’s one of my favorites,” a woman's voice says from a few rows over.

It’s familiar. Too familiar, and I stop what I'm doing.

I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but what the heck?

As if I’m now some kind of spy, I tiptoe and move as stealthily as I can toward the voice, which is now giving more book recommendations to someone.

When I’m pretty sure she’s just one row over, I peek slowly, and sure as hell, there’s Shay sitting in a corner set up with a round cozy pink chair that looks like it should be on someone’s front porch given the way it hangs from the ceiling and end tables for the coffee lovers to sit and read. She’s got a coffee and a book as she tucks one leg under the other and laughs at something the other woman has said. My eavesdropping must have frozen me the moment Ispotted Shay, because I have no idea what was so freaking funny.

I narrow my gaze, ready to step up to her and demand she explain herself. She swore she’d call me if her date didn't show.

But then I stop.

She’s smiling and laughing and she looks … happy. She looks the least stressed or sad I’ve seen her in weeks.

As much as I want to know the truth right now, I can't take this from her.

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