“You okay?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “You look really happy.”

“Oh, what? Yeah, I’m great. I’m just relieved the interview’s over.” I chuckle.

He laughs, which is a very nice sound. Like wind chimes, or that Haley Reinhart cover of “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” Then he says, “Sorry it didn’t go so well. Do you like coffee? We have a café out on the patio that only operates once summer officially starts in June, but I can brew you something right now if you want it. Consider it a consolation prize since you came all the way out here.”

Oh my God. He’s asking me out for coffee. “I’d love a vanilla latte.”

He grins. “Classy. I’ll work on it. Watch the register?”

“I got you.”

I slip behind the register like they’re actually going to get any customers and just kind of bounce on my heels while Drew heads out back. I feel like it would be rude to be on my phone while I’m manning the counter, but I really want to text Becca and tell her how well this whole thing is working out. I mean, what are the odds that I’d stumble into the ice cream shop guy again? And now he’s in the back making me coffee, which is exactly the kind of creativity I need in a perfect partner.

A few minutes later, Drew steps back into the room with a little paper cup. It doesn’t have the floral milk pattern I was hoping for, but I think it still counts for creativity. I mean, he made it, so that’s definitely a start.

I happily accept it, smiling as I take a sip and choke.

“You okay?” Drew asks, a sloppy grin on his face.

I nod. “Yeah, it’s just hot,” I say, which isn’t entirely true. I mean, yes, it’s hot, but it’s also really bitter, like maybe he forgot that vanilla is an ingredient in vanilla lattes. But it’s fine. I’m not turning down free coffee, especially not free coffee brewed just for me by a gorgeous boy.

“So, are you like a huge book nerd?” he asks.

I giggle. “Not really.”

“So why apply to work at a bookstore?”

“I’m staying here with my brother for the summer, and I really need some cash,” I say. I take a look around at the clutter and hold in a wince. “His girlfriend recommended the job.”

“You don’t like her?”

I tilt my face downward. “I didn’t say that.”

He smirks. “Didn’t have to. Your voice said it for you.”

“I don’t dislike her. She’s just—I don’t know. Not really my type of person, I guess.”

“Does it matter? I mean, she’s dating your brother, not you,” he says.