Page 30 of The Attack Zone

Is he always going to have this effect on me now?Don’t lie, I find myself thinking.He always has.

Great.

Once my seatbelt is on, he pulls out into traffic and starts on the path to the mountains.

“I got you a coffee,” he says, motioning to the cupholder nearest me. “I stopped at your favorite place on my way from the practice rink.”

My ... favorite place? He can’t actually know what my favorite coffee shop is. I’m insanely particular about coffee, it’s one of my few vices.

I pull the cup out to examine the label and ... well, I’ll be damned. It’s from the far-too-expensive shop in the far-too-expensive neighborhood of Cherry Creek. It’s fancy as hell so the baristas are always a little mean. I love it.

I’m sure he doesn’t know my favorite order, though. He probably just got me a black coffee.

“It’s an oat milk flat white, extra hot,” he says as he turns onto the interstate that will lead us to the mountains. “And yes, I made sure it has the right amount of foam.”

I turn to him and try to keep my mouth from falling open.

“I ... how ...” I stutter for a moment before I regain my composure enough to just shut up and drink my coffee. It’s so heavenly when it hits my lips that I accidentally let out a little sigh.

Mitch lets out a little chuckle as he merges lanes. Thank God he can’t look at me while driving, or his smile combined with this news would be very disarming. I can’t afford to be disarmed with him, not after last night.

“We’ve had meetings there like twenty times together, he says. “I might be a dumb jock, but I’m not that dumb.”

Mitch is objectively highly intelligent. Loud? Yes. Infuriating? Sometimes. Goofy? For sure. But not dumb. Never that.

“I don’t think you’re dumb,” I say.

“Good,” he says. “Because I have some thoughts on greenery for the ceremony arch and I need you to hear me out.”

I let out a little laugh—no, it’s a giggle—and reach for my phone. “Did you have time to add them to the Pinterest board?”

“Of course,” he says. “I did it while I waited for your bougie-ass coffee.”

I pull up Pinterest on my phone and scroll to our shared board for Caleb and Cassie’s wedding. The photos Mitch added to the board show simple-but-beautiful greenery draped over natural-looking arches. They’re totally timeless, which is exactly the look I’ve been thinking we want for this. They’re perfect.

Ugh.

Why does he have to be so good at this?

“I like these a lot,” I admit.

“Really?” he asks, quickly glances over at me before returning his attention to the road.

“Yeah,” I say. “I guess you don’t totally suck at this.”

He shifts in his seat like he’s a bit uncomfortable and clears his throat.

“You good?” I ask.

“Yep. Totally,” he says. “And I’m totally not trying to keep from making a joke about sucking right now.” Then he sneaks a look over at me and he has that same sparkle in his eyes as he did last night. An ungodly sound escapes me and my body starts shaking.

I’m laughing.

I’m laughing about sucking Mitch fucking Greggs’ dick.

It’s a flirtatious laugh, I realize.

Am I flirting with Mitch?