Page 15 of Silent Count
“Maybe I will,” he says.
We reach the shop and step up to the counter.
“This is my treat,” he says.
“You don’t have to do that.” I wave him off.
“Nope. I insist.” He puts his hand on my lower back, which shoots tingles straight up my spine, and guides me forward.
I place my order for a vanilla chai and give them my name, and he orders the matcha and an energy drink and gives them his name.
“Double fisting, eh?” I look at him.
“The energy drink is my backup plan in case I don’t like the matcha.” He chuckles.
The barista gives him the total, and Bo pulls out his phone from his pocket to tap the payment. Once he’s paid, he drops his phone back in his pocket, and we move down the line, his hand on my lower back again. When we reach the end of the line, his hand stays in place, and I don’t say anything.
I’m not sure if this is like an automatic reaction for him or if he intends to touch me. I don’t hate it—that’s for sure. I can feel the warmth of his hand through my clothes. It’s calming, but also … those tingles are back.
“Chelsea,” the barista calls out.
“That would be you.” Bo slides his hand up my back, then drops his hand.
I take my drink off the counter and turn to him. “Thanks for the chai. I appreciate it, even though you totally didn’t have to.”
“It’s not a problem, and it’s absolutely my pleasure to serve you, Chelsea.” He places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently.
Our gazes are locked, and we’re both smiling.
“Bo!” the barista calls out.
Without breaking his stare, he reaches over and grabs his two drinks and tips his head in the direction of the exit.
I turn on my heel and start walking, feeling his stare on me. I’ve always thought he was good-looking, but it seems like his hotness is all up in my face now. Possibly because I’ve spent more time around him over the last year, and lucky me … I’m about to spend more time with him.
When we get outside the doorway of the coffee shop, he comes up next to me so we’re walking side by side. “What class are you in now?” he asks.
I push the door to the outside open, and he reaches over me to hold it open.
“Environmental Law and Crime.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
“Wow, okay. That sounds intense.” He chuckles. “You excited about that?”
I smile up at him as we walk toward the building where my class is located. “Actually, yes.”
“Good. It definitely makes the class go faster when it’s something you like.” He takes a sip of the matcha and scrunches up his nose.
“Don’t like it?” I ask him, giggling.
He turns his head side to side. “Actually, it’s not too bad. A little sweet, but not too sweet. Has a grassy flavor. Kind of like drinking a shot of wheat grass with milk in it.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had wheat grass, so I can’t tell you if you’re right or wrong.” I shrug.
“You’re not missing anything. I drink it occasionally because it’s good for you, but it’s not a preferred beverage.” He snickers.
“I’ll take your word for it.” I tilt my head toward the building in front of us. “This is me. I guess I’ll see you tonight.”
He smiles a wicked smile and nods. “Looking forward to it. Have a good class.” He starts walking backward.
