Sydney
By the time the car came to a stop in front of the coffee shop, I’d successfully convinced myself that the only reason I’d agreed to tutor Dean on a Saturday was because I had nowhere else to go.
Which, technically, was true. Because Maeve had left that morning—six hours away for some family thing.
Again.
Leaving me with my thoughts, and apparently, my bad decisions—Dean.
“Do you know he was sweating the entire time we were talking?”
I snickered, adjusting my bag on my shoulder. “I didn’t notice.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Maeve huffed through the phone. “I had to tell him to stop shaking like every ten seconds. I swear I thought he was going to pass out.”
I pushed the car door open and stepped out.
“What did you even say to him?” I asked, my eyes catching the coffee shop.
