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“Cute, maybe,” she said with a shrug. “Asshole, definitely. Probably has the word ‘Esquire’ after his name.”
“Was it because you had to talk to people and therefore pretend to be a person yourself rather than an android who runs on tea and disdain?”
“Nothing boring about a well-made black coffee,” he said, then nodded at her cup. “I suppose yours is filled with glitter and the tears of unicorns.” “They were out of unicorn tears this morning. Had to use Splenda instead.”
Gwyn laughed at that, tucking her hair behind her ear even as she watched him from the side of her eye. She really did laugh . . . kind of a lot with Wells. And that, weirdly, seemed somehow even more dangerous than a couple of good kisses.
