ROMEO | 18+

4.

"I still need a tutor," he smiles coyly. It doesn't seem like he is bothered by the few lazy strands of hair falling over his forehead, his dark locks evidently tousled by the November wind.

Gods, is he making everything harder. He shouldn't be this pretty to look at.

A glower draws itself on her face. "How does that concern me?"

"Because I want you to be my tutor," he admits smugly, one eyebrow quirked up.

"Hard pass," she utters flatly. "Why are you really here, Quinn?"

Sighing, he straightens his back, but puts both his palms atop the counter, leaning forward until the distance between their faces becomes smaller.

Isla's breath gets stuck in her throat when his gaze drops to her lips. "Want to know the truth?"

She can't show him how much his mere presence affects her. How the feel of his warm and steady breaths fanning onto her nose rewinds her memory to the party.

"Sure," she declares calmly. "As long as you're quick with it because you're creating a line."

Romeo doesn't seem to be caring about the three people waiting behind him.

"I want to get to know you," he admits truthfully. Despite the lack of modesty in his demeanour, honesty swirls along the edges of his irises.

Ugh. Isla wants to get to know him, too. Wants to learn about his passion for hockey. Wants to know about his plans for the future.

"I'm not interested."

A dimple makes its appearance on his right cheek. "Liar."

An irritated exhale flies past Isla's lips. Dropping her hands to her sides, she blinks. "Try again. Why are you here?"

"Okay, fine." Flickering his gaze above his head, he rapidly scans the menu, his smile now gone. "I'll take an oat latte."

Fucking finally. The quicker he's gone, the better she can breathe.

Isla taps onto the screen of her tablet. "What size?"

He teases her with a chuckle, his voice lowering, "A bit inappropriate to ask this in a public area, don't you think?"

Isla's eyes widen as she looks up at him. This is the moment she thanks her parents for giving her their genes—tan skin that manages to conceal the crimson blush coating her cheekbones.

Romeo wants to laugh, she sees it. She breathes, trying to remain calm and collected as the line behind him becomes longer. "What size?"

A shake of his head is evident as he snickers. "I'll take a small. Thanks, angel."

"Don't angel me," she seethes, diverting her eyes back to her tablet. "That'll be three ninety-five, please."

Giving her a five-dollar bill, he says, "Keep the change."

The second their fingers brush, a jolt of electricity seeps through her veins, making Isla retreat her hand in a hurried motion. The frown on Romeo's face shows that he, too, must have felt it.