Chapter 12

Andy curled his hands around the other mug and let its warmth seep into his bones. “Black is fine,” he said, sighing happily. “I won’t say I’ve never indulged in overpriced dessert disguised as a drink, but mostly, yeah, black.” Which was true, so he didn’t have to give voice to how terribly awkward and intrusive it would feel to go into Scooter’s private space. He sipped carefully, mindful of the temperature, then took a slightly bigger gulp when it proved to be cool enough. The noise he made was probably close to obscene, but he didn’t really care. Coffee

Scooter cleared his throat and shifted his weight—yep, probably shouldn’t have made that noise, but coffee—and said, “I’m gonna go into town in a bit, run some errands. Pick you up anything while I’m there? Or you can ride along, if you want?”