“It’s whatever,” he says. I glance over at him quickly and he’s not looking at me either. I wonder if he’s embarrassed he said anything. He parks the truck and reaches over to unlock my door, leaving the gas running.

“Be careful, okay?”

“It’s just work,” I say. “Not a big deal.”

He narrows his eyes at me and doesn’t need to say anything back, because I can hear him telepathically: I can see through all of your bullshit, Collins.

I turn toward the store, smiling when I see the chalkboard out front, recognizing Dean’s handwriting.

VIDEOS: GET ’EM WHILE THEY’RE HOT!

But the smile is bittersweet, because this means he hasn’t called out sick or mysteriously died, but is in fact right on the other side of the glass door in front of me. Andrew honks and I turn back around, raising an arm up to wave goodbye. He waves back and then drives away. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Then I push the door open and walk in.

And there is he, behind the register, resting his adorable head on his adorable hand. I only get a flash of him before I whip my head down to stare at the ground, because suddenly my eyes don’t know how to work properly. I barely notice Tim is behind the counter too—Star Trek Tim, who’s smiling and waving at me like he has no idea I’m in complete anxiety hell. It’s actually good that Tim is here, really. No alone time with James Dean means I won’t have to deal with the whole trying-to-go-in-for-a-kiss-but-ending-up-with-his-ear-in-my-mouth problem.

“Hey, Keely,” Tim calls out as I take off my jacket and walk over to the register.

“Hey, Tim,” I say, making eye contact with the floor. I can’t look up on the chance Dean might walk into my eyeline. I know I’m being awkward and probably ruining everything, but this is the first time I’ve ever dealt with seeing a cute guy after a hookup and it’s excruciating. I’m even more impressed now with how calm Danielle was when she saw Chase in school after the whole condom incident.

It’s getting weird now, so I force myself to look up at Dean. Our eyes lock. I feel a shot of electricity at the contact, almost as if it were a physical touch. He smiles and raises his hand to his forehead in a quick army salute. His hair is rumpled and I can’t help but flash back to when I was running my hands through it. All I want is to run my hands through it again and again.

“Hey,” I say, raising an arm up to army salute him back. My voice comes out scratchy and I have to clear my throat. Somehow I don’t sound like me.