“Not the ‘get coffee together’ kind of girl, huh?” Rhys teases, no hint of his hesitation or unease from last night present in his expression now. “Just the ‘serve it with a smile’ kind,” I quip. He smiles further, more genuine as it pulls at his mouth, the indent of one dimple showing. “For some reason, I doubt the ‘smile’ part. I don’t remember that from the last time you served me coffee.”
