Marc Jillson & The Gazebo (Love Inscribed 2)

“One black coffee will do.”

Rainbow Hair pumped Tyler a paper cup of coffee and handed it over.

I eyed the menu. “What do I want? What do I want?”

“There are literally two options,” Tyler said, frowning.

I grinned at him. “Which makes it a fifty percent chance I choose the wrong thing.”

A deep, familiar chuckle sounded from behind me and I froze.

Hunter rolled to my other side, eyes curiously scrolling down Tyler. “He’ll have the coffee.”

“Will he?” Tyler asked.

Hunter leaned forward as if to pass on a secret. “He’s a fan. Last year his Scribe desk was littered with coffee cups.”

Heat walloped to my cheeks. “What are you talking about?”

Hunter’s gaze settled on me, and my stomach twisted with nerves. Something about Hunter made it seem like he saw right through me. Like he saw every guilty corner and yet refused to pass judgment. “You also have a definitive coffee scent about you.”

A half-baked laugh blubbered out of me and I stuffed my hands into my pockets. “Ah, you mean a bright, caffeinated aura?”

“Or an over-caffeinated nervous twitch.” Hunter glanced toward Tyler and back, eyes twinkling. “Sorry for interrupting your date.”

I jerked my hands out of my pockets, shaking my head hard. “I’m not on a—this is not a date.”

Tyler made a soft noise and dropped his eyes to the steaming coffee cup in his hand.

My palms pearled with sweat, and my throat felt sticky. He thought this was a date?

I mean, a date! I wanted that. And Tyler was exceptionally hot. Was it too late to take it back? “He was about to tell me all about himself.”

Tyler took a step backward, coffee spilling over his hand. “I just remembered, I have a meeting with my tutor. Thanks for the coffee.”

Well, fuck. That didn’t go well. “Tyler—”

“Later.”

I chastised myself.

Rainbow Hair cleared her throat. “Tea or coffee?”

Hunter cocked his head. I stared at him and that ridiculously deep dimple. Rainbow Hair asked again, and when Hunter leaned toward her to answer on my behalf, I blurted. “Tea.”

Rainbow Hair gaped at me. “Black or fruity?” She lifted two boxes of tea from under the cart—one unopened box of Earl Grey, and one dusty box of Fruit Sensation.

“Does the black have caffeine in it?” I asked hopefully. Hunter smirked. “Never mind. Fruity is good. Fruity is so what I want.”

I paid for my tea and long-gone Tyler’s coffee, and Hunter ordered two coffees with a splash of milk in a paper carrier.

I fixed a protective cardboard sheath around my cup and surreptitiously eyed the benches along the windows for Hunter’s Red Jeans wannabe hookup.

Hunter balanced the coffee carrier on his lap, rolling his chair with one hand, heading in my direction, the fastest way out of there.

“Where’s your date?” I asked.

“At my place—later. I’m heading to Scribe. Like you should be.”

Yeah, if I had anything to submit.

Hunter side-eyed me. “Were you about to pump Tyler for an article?”

“Jesus that sounds crass. I was going to ask him some questions about how he navigated university. But mostly I was after his lecture notes.”

“Yeeeeah. Jill? That’s not any less crass.”

My shoulders slumped when I heard it. Fuck. I scrubbed my jaw. “You got me.” I blew on my tea, took a sip, and promptly spat it back into the cup. “God, that’s disgusting.”

I walked through the sliding doors and dumped the tea right into the nearest trash.

Hunter kept pace, rolling alongside. “You didn’t brainstorm a campus story?”

I sighed. “I didn’t do crap this week, okay? I spent most of it half-naked, ripping into a jumbo-sized bag of Cheetos, grieving the loss of Demon-Slayage.” Hunter’s chair stalled and I jerked around. “You okay?”

“That was quite a picture you painted.” He blinked me in from head to toe and my skin fritzed with electricity. “You know you could come back to the game.”

I laughed. “Right. Because DaMage and Fawkes will pick up right where they left off.”

“It’ll be an adjustment. I get it.”

I grunted.

Hunter peered at me, quizzically. “Jumbo bag of Cheetos?”

“I have an addiction.”

Hunter rolled smoothly past me. “Genetics were very kind to you. Come. I have an idea for your story. I’ll even take a few pictures for you to fill out your article.”

“Really?” I pointed to his coffee carrier. “But you’re meeting someone.” Liam?

Hunter handed me a coffee, laughing softly. “I refuse to believe you have shit for brains.”

My breath hitched. He’d heard that with Tyler?

My hand curled around the warm cup and I followed after Hunter, sipping quietly.

“Your article is right around the corner.”

“Shit. I don’t think. I’ve ever. Been to this. Hill. On campus.”

“Yes. It sounds like you should climb it more often. Maybe also check out the university gym.”

“Fuck.” I paused to puff, eying Hunter. It had to be bicep-aching work rolling his chair up this zigzag path. “Why haven’t you broken a sweat?”