“Scout,” I whisper and squeeze her shoulder a bit.
“Yeah?” She whispers back before yawning.
“We should head to work.”
“Work?” She whispers, still not awake enough to process what’s happening. She told me she gets like that in the morning, but I never realized how cute it actually was until experiencing it now.
“Yeah. You know, the place where we make tech for the mafia?”
“Oh,” she whispers, holding on to me tighter as she props herself up to look at me.
“Good morning,” she smiles.
“Good morning,” I laugh quietly as I reach over to grab her coffee. She seems taken aback by the gesture, though it cost me very little. Her hands reach for it, and I meet her halfway. She takes a sip before nodding.
“How’d you know I like my coffee this way?”
“It’s the way you always make it at the coffee machine.”
“You watch me make my coffee at work?”
“Yeah.” I bite my lip, and she laughs into her cup quietly as she takes another sip.
“So, about last night—” I begin because I know I have to catch her up on what happened during the test run, but she cuts me off before I can finish.
“I know, it was silly. We shouldn’t have—”
“We?”
“We kissed.”
“Uhm.” I clear my thoughts, and her eyes go wide when she realizes we’re on two different pages.
“Oh my god.”
“You’re fine.”
“No. I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s fine, Scout.”
“No, it’s not. I—”
“You don’t like kissing me. I get it.” I partly tease, but I wonder why she even made it seem like it was a bad choice. If I remember correctly, she likes kissing me. It’s not like we did anything besides that. That doesn’t mean I didn’t think about it. But we barely got anywhere before Espie and Olive interrupted.
“No, that’s not it—”
“I’m kidding.”
“Are you?”
“Sort of.” There’s a pause between us, and then she sighs quietly to herself, looking down at my chest before I take her chin between my thumb and index, bringing her eyes back to mine.
“You don’t want to kiss me anymore?” I hate the question, but I hate the possibility of her not wanting me even more, so I have to ask it. She seems conflicted and doesn’t answer straight away. Not a great sign. Doesn’t feel great, either. Like a kick to the stomach.
“It has nothing to do with you. I promise. It’s just, I—”
“I’m here if you want me, Scout.” I try to end this conversation with a sliver of hope for myself. She doesn’t discount my offer, only nods as I let go of her chin.