BEAUTIFUL BROKEN MESS (Broken, Series #2)(6)

“It’s a chai tea latte.”

“I know,” I lie to him.

“No you don’t.” He laughs again. “You’re a coffee house virgin, aren’t you?” When I don’t respond, he gives me a sweet smile. Not one that is meant to ridicule, but just one that shows he’s trying to figure me out. “That’s cool, I’m glad I could be your first.”

My eyes bug out at his innuendo and I finally begin to laugh at myself. “I’m pathetic, aren’t I? I mean, who has never been to a coffee house?”

“Not at all, I’m finding you refreshing.”

His comment makes me blush, so I decide to change the subject. “How old are you?” I’m assuming he’s in high school because of the shirt he’s wearing, but it could just be from a past year. I watch as he takes a long pull from his water bottle and for some reason, the up and down movement of his throat as he swallows continuously mesmerizes me. Would it be weird to put my lips on his neck right now?

“Eighteen,” he replies. “You?”

I nod my head. “Just turned eighteen last week.”

“No shit? So did I. What day?”

“The fourteenth.”

He points to himself and says, “The thirteenth, beat you by a day!” His smile is infectious. “So what’s a gorgeous, eighteen year-old girl like you doing buying whiskey?” he asks, smirking.

I make a disgusted face. “I don’t drink, it’s for my dad.” I resolve to leave it at that. Telling him that I buy my dad liquor in the hopes that he won’t beat the crap out of me is not something I plan on sharing.

“You don’t drink? Seems like every high school kid around here does. I like that. I don’t touch the stuff either,” he says with a smile.

I’m assuming that we don’t indulge for vastly different reasons. I don’t drink because I’ve seen what it can do to a person and I’ve smelled the horror on my dad’s breath one too many times.

Fortunately, he doesn’t dig any deeper, instead asking, “So, did you just pay Oliver off like everyone else?”

“Pay him off? No, he doesn’t ask me to pay him,” I reply, confused.

If I had to pay the guy any more than what I already spend there, I wouldn’t be able to afford anything besides the whiskey. Without thinking, I reach into my purse, grab my cherry-vanilla chapstick, and spin the bottom. As I slide the balm against my lips, Jace’s eyes follow the trail.

“That jackass makes everybody pay him…” I watch him pause as I rub my lips together and he begins to study me. “Well… I guess you would be an exception.” His legs squeeze mine a little tighter.

Together we sit and talk for what seems like hours. We talk about future college plans and how boring high school is. We even have a debate over whether reading an actual book is better than reading from a device. I was rooting for the actual paper and spine book, but he trumped me by pulling out his smart phone and showing me how he had over two hundred books right in his back pocket.

Who would have thought a guy in high school would actually enjoy talking about books? I almost reach to grab his face in that moment, so I grab my drink instead and take the first sip.

Oh, that’s nice. I’ve never tasted anything like this before. It’s definitely not that black sludge my dad brews every morning. Although it’s long since cooled to a tepid temperature, the flavor is sweet and slightly spicy at the same time. Now I wish Jace hadn’t introduced this to me, because I’ll be lusting after this drink every time I pass this place in the future.