Free The Fundamental Theory of Us by Alyse Raines

your brainwaves” side-eye. This lasted several tense minutes, punctuated by the ticking clock and hum of lights in the display cases. “Something happened to you, didn’t it?”
    “What? No. Don’t be stupid.” Sawyer didn’t believe herself, so why should Rachel?
    “Look, I know we’re not like, super close. Yet.” She smirked. “But you can trust me. I mean, who else gives up awesome parties for you?”
    “That’s not even—” Sawyer broke off when the door clinked and Andrew walked in, dressed in work out gear that did nothing to hide his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and powerful thighs.
    “Not even what?” Rachel pressed. She laughed when she saw Andrew. “Never mind. I can tell you’re preoccupied.”
    “What?” Sawyer gave the counter her attention. She must have wiped this section a hundred times in the last forty seconds.
    “You want him so bad, it’s like standing in a room with an honest to God gravitational pull.”
    Sawyer’s arm jerked into a rack of packaged biscotti and a few of them fell. She let out a curse and bent to pick them up, focusing on rearranging the display rather than Andrew’s body and his eyes and his smile.
    Rachel leaned in to murmur in Sawyer’s ear. “Did he do something to you?”
    “No, God no.” Warmth filled her belly at the memories of the past few weeks. “Nothing like that, okay? Whatever you’re thinking, it’s so off base.”
    “If you’re sure,” Rachel said, her narrowed eyes glued to Andrew.
    “I swear. If you’re thinking the”—Sawyer ducked her head to whisper—“the ‘R’ word, you’re wrong. I promise.”
    Purple Punk Princess studied the way Andrew was looking at Sawyer, and the blush creeping up Sawyer’s face. Then Rachel shrugged. “All right, I’ll take your word for it.”
    Leaving Rachel at the end of the counter, Sawyer moved slowly down to the register where Andrew stopped, waiting for her with his cocky, crooked grin. The heat in her belly traveled lower, and expanded, until she thought she’d go supernova right there in the coffee shop.
    “Hey,” Andrew said. The corners of his eyes creased deeper as his smile widened.
    “Hey.” She paused. “How’s Rosie?” There, a safe topic.
    He glanced over his shoulder to where Rosie sat tied up on a bike rack, slurping water from a small metal bowl. “She’s good. Took her on a long walk this morning.” He shoved a hand through his hair and the dark strands flopped on his brow. “You kind of shut down last night after you checked your phone.”
    She dropped her gaze to his chest. “Sorry.”
    “Don’t be.” Andrew reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “But I think you could use this.”
    Sawyer looked at the card and her heart hardened. “A shrink?” She stared at him and swore her eyes turned into weapons. “You think I’m crazy. Thanks.”
    “That’s not what I meant—”
    Sawyer wasn’t interested in his excuses or reasons or whatever he wanted to call them. Accusations in pretty paper still stung. “Are you buying anything? If not, you’re welcome to leave and let the door hit you on the way out.”
    Andrew rose to the challenge. “I’ll take a cappuccino and a tall stack of oatmeal chocolate chip pancakes with two orders of bacon, and fresh fruit on the side.”
    Jerk . He picked the stuff that took the longest to cook. On purpose.
    Sawyer rang him up while an entire hive of killer bees swarmed in her stomach. When his hand brushed hers as he paid, her heart pounded so hard she tasted her pulse. Then he smiled, like she hadn’t bitten his head off, like he enjoyed it when people were rude to him on purpose. Or maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind because it was her.
    She couldn’t brush off the “you’re crazy and need to get your head examined” moment. She might have issues, but who didn’t? And in light of the shit she’d put up with at home, Sawyer thought she had come out relatively sane on the other side.
    Andrew Warren