Andrew had come to the bar for one reason. Denial. Denial through work, denial through wiping the same spotless counter eight times, denial through pretending that his heart wasn't doing gymnastics every time a certain chaotic alpha crossed his mind. But Luna, unfortunately, had eyes.
Sharp, nosy, best-friend eyes.
"Quit polishing the counter, Romeo."
Luna said, chin propped on her palm as she watched him over the bar.
"You've been zoning out for twenty minutes. Again."
"I'm not zoning out."
Andrew said, polishing harder.
"You're thinking about her."
He stopped. The rag dropped. Luna's smirk widened.
"Ah. Thought so."
Andrew rolled his eyes and reached for another glass.
"I think about lots of people."
"Do you?"
She asked sweetly.
"Do all those other 'people' also make your ears go pink?"
He paused. Then touched his ears. They were, in fact, warm. Which was rude. And treasonous. And absolutely none of Luna's business.
"It's just… she's Tina."
He muttered.
