She sticks her tongue out at me playfully. I make a distorted ugly expression. When I feel a big shadow loom over me, I haul the menu back up to my face and unfold it like a newspaper until my nose practically touches the ink. I feel Drew’s voice rather than hear it.
“Hey, Luce. Who’s your mysterious friend?” He says it with a hint of amusement. He knows it’s me. I should just put down the menu, but I don’t. I want to hide from him, and I’m not entirely sure why.
Actually, I do. It’s that damn sliver of skin I saw. It did something to my brain—altered me like a computer virus. This morning I noticed that Drew built a little shelf above his bedroom door and placed my Frosty the Snowman mug on it like a trophy. Who does something like that?! Me. I would, and frankly, I’m annoyed I don’t get to. Point is, he’s still the same old annoying, gloating, selfish Drew he’s always been…but I don’t know. Before, I co
uld think of him as a robot. A spawn of the devil. Now I know for a fact he has flesh. Gorgeous, man flesh.
“I don’t know. Who am I at lunch with?” Lucy asks, knowing better than to invent a story on her own.
“Nobody. No one is here, go about your day.”
Below the menu, I can see Drew plant his hand on the top of the table. Above me, his shadow grows. And then his finger peeks over the edge of the menu and he pulls it down, revealing his stoic face and jet-black scrubs. No smiles for miles. Good. I don’t want to see his hideous dimples.
When the menu is down, he sees my sunglasses and lifts a brow. He wants to smile but holds back. The feeling is mutual. His hand rises again and peels the sunglasses off my face. I wish more than anything I could be a sunglasses nesting doll. How great would it have been if there were a smaller pair of sunglasses under these, and then a pair of goggles under those, and then tiny little 1800s spectacles under all of them?
Without the protection of my eyewear, Drew leaves me vulnerable to attack from his deep, dark, angry blue eyes. What does he have to be angry about?
“I have lavender scrubs at home now.” His voice is so low, anyone around me might think he’s talking sexy to me. I know otherwise.
I press my lips together and try to stifle a laugh. “Good for you—not conforming to gender color stereotypes.”
Lucy is completely lost, looking between the two of us. “I don’t get it.”
He smirks and keeps his eyes on me. “When someone mixes hot pink with light blue, the result is lavender.”
I hold Drew’s gaze and have to suck my cheeks in to keep from laughing. There’s no way his scrubs are as bad as he says. I’ve washed those undies a dozen times already—the color wouldn’t have run so potently. He’s being dramatic as always.
Lucy’s phone rings, and she answers it hesitantly, like she’s afraid to leave Drew and me unchaperoned for any length of time for fear that we’ll murder each other in cold blood right in the middle of this coffee shop. His eyes get darker, and I think maybe we will.
“Hi Mom…” we hear Lucy say as she trails off toward the door.
Drew’s eyes squint a little. I squint back a little more dramatically. The edge of his mouth twitches. Suddenly, it’s getting warmer in here, and I realize it’s because Drew is still hovering over me, soaking up all the refreshing breeze I would normally be able to feel.
I lean back in my chair a smidge and wave my hand in a sharp annoyed movement. “Okay, back up. Enough with the looming. Are your scrubs really lavender?”
He stands back up to his full height, and now I feel like an ant down here. He nods an affirmative to my question.
“How? When you wash colors on cold—”
“I wash my scrubs on hot.”
Oh. Well, that would do it.
“Guys, I’m so sorry, that was Mom, and apparently Levi just started throwing up with some sort of stomach bug!” Lucy reappears at the table and starts shoveling her keys, sunglasses, and wallet into her purse. “I think Molly had a cancelation today so I’m going to call her and see if she can cover for me with my two o’clock appointment.” She wraps up her muffin and shoves it in her purse too. “I’m so sorry to cut our brunch short, Jessie, but I’ve got to get to Levi and relieve my mom.” She rushes around the table and is almost to the door when she realizes something important. “OH SHOOT! I drove you here and the salon is the opposite way of my mom’s house.”
“It’s okay, you go ahead. I’ll call an Uber to take me back.”
Lucy gives me a guilty look.
“Go! Levi is waiting on you. Tell him Aunt Jessie is going to drop off a present for him later to make him feel better.”
Lucy still doesn’t move. She jingles the keys in her hands and shifts on her feet, debating whether she should really leave me or not.
“I’ll take you.” Drew’s words pierce through me, and my eyes collide with his.
Me? Ride in a car with Drew? No. I don’t even fully know why I’m so opposed, but…just no.
Lucy looks so relieved, and not at all as if she’s going to hurl like I am. “Thank you! You’re the best as always!” She rushes up and kisses his cheek, and then mine next. “See you guys later.” Wonderful, now we both get stomach bugs too.