The light turns green, and I whip into the local coffee shop’s parking lot. I order an iced coffee for myself and some fancy shit for my mother. Just as I’m about to turn onto the intersection, a flash of blond hair catches my attention. Slowing down, I peruse the group of people picking up litter off the side of the road and pull over.

Rolling down the window, I stick my head out for a better view.

No fucking way.

It’s her.

I’d know that body and hair anywhere.

It belongs to the woman I can’t stop thinking about.

I cup my hand over my mouth and yell, “Yo! Did you get a new job?”

Cassidy veers to face me, stunned, and mutters, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Not that I hear her. I’m just decent at reading lips.

She shuffles toward me as if I were a dreaded stepparent she had to spend the weekend with, wearing plastic gloves and carrying a trash bag along with a picker.

When she reaches me, she stabs at loose strands of hair falling from her hair tie.

I lean farther out the window, sticking my head out like a turtle from his shell. “If you need more hours at the bar, I can ask Archer.” There’s no stopping my lips from twitching into a smirk.

“Shove it,” she grumbles, chewing on her plump lower lip. “This is my community service.”

“Community service?” I shift my car into park. “What do you have community service for?”

This woman grows more interesting by the hour.

Her gaze drops to the ground, and she kicks at the tiny rocks in the gravel. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I do.” I want to know every damn detail.

She moves from one foot to the other. “Too bad it isn’t happening.”

I frown. “How many hours did you get?”

“I have one more day. Saturday morning. Then, thank the Lord, I’m finished.”

“Hey! Excuse me!”

At the gravelly, smoke-cured voice, our attention swings to the middle-aged woman stomping in our direction. A neon-orange vest is draped across her shoulders, and a clipboard is gripped in her hands.

“No talking to men in cars like some hooker!” she yells, snapping her fingers. “Get over here before I report you for breaking guidelines!” She releases a final huff while glaring at Cassidy.

“Ugh,” Cassidy groans, rolling her eyes before shooting me an apologetic smile. “Thanks for stopping and talking shit. It’s always a pleasure.”

“Anytime, Cass.” I wink.

“Looks like I’m not the only stalker in this relationship of ours.” She winks back more dramatically, holds up her trash picker, and walks away.

“Taco Tuesday, baby!” Silas calls out, slamming his palm on the bar and pointing at Cassidy. “You coming?”

“Sounds tempting,” Cassidy replies, biting into her lower lip before locking eyes with me. “Lincoln, are you attending Taco Tuesday?”