I just couldn’t stop blinking at him. I couldn’t believe he was ordering for me. I couldn’t quite grasp how he was just figuring things out as he moved along. It wasn’t like we were on a mission or something.
“And a sitting cup of coffee for whoever wants it.”
I raised one brow at him. “Sitting coffee?”
“It’s for people who can’t afford to buy a cup of coffee,” the attendant explained. “Coffee on reserve.”
I nodded with a grin. What a lovely thing to do for a stranger. It made me look at Fred differently for a second—because it didn’t seem like something he would do. Yet in all the time I had known him, it wasn’t like he was an asshole.
Not necessarily nice. But not an asshole either. I was impressed.
Fred plucked a duct tape wallet from his pocket, handed over a few bills, and waved off the receipt offered to him. “Tell Mauve I said hi.”
“You got it, Fredster.”
The attendant smiled at me with their eyes and then wandered off to complete our order.
I was plain stumped by the time Fred got me to move down the long black counter to the pick-up window on the other side. “How—why did—how did you—?”
“You really think I spent the last four years living under a rock?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just—” I gaped up at him and added softly, “Has it really been four years since I’ve seen you, Fred?”
Faded memories seemed to be playing in his mind as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “I paid attention on the few missions we shared.”
“The brown sugar was a great guess.”
“Liam mentioned how he used to make you two—”
“Brown sugar waffles,” we said simultaneously.
My heart lurched in my chest like it was a gigantic manual truck being driven by a grumpy shut-in named Fred.
I smiled weakly. “I miss him.”
“I know. Me too.”
“Is he okay?”
He shrugged. “He’s fine. You know Liam.”
“Yeah. He knows me.”
“I know you too.”
Our eyes locked, and goodness me, the way the world tilted again made me nauseous. Something was happening here, something much stronger than Fred just inviting me out on a whim—no, onBlake’s orders.
“I don’t know what you did,” I admitted gently, “or why you changed your mind—but I’m glad you did, Fred. I haven’t gone anywhere in a year.”
He nodded slowly. “Took some string-pulling, but Blake allowed it in the end.”
“Is that because he wants us to be mates?”
That word sounded bizarre coming out of my mouth, and I noticed how Fred squinted at the statement like it was a poisonous snake.
His gaze drifted south past my nose, my lips, my chin…
“We’re not supposed to be together, Kylie,” he said in a low voice. “We just don’t match. We don’t get along.”