"Shit," I mutter, quickly grabbing my phone and running out the door.

I'm late.

Again.

I get in my car and start driving to my dad's house.

I quickly call Tyler.

He picks up on the second ring.

"You're late," he sighs the second he answers.

"I know, I'm sorry. I lost track of time—"

"You have to buy me McDonalds after school," he says. "That's the deal."

"I know," I smile.

I pull up to my dad's house and Tyler comes running out. He gets into the car and sighs loudly.

"How's Rachel doing?" I ask after a second.

"I told you not to mention her. She doesn't like me. At all," he groans.

"I'm sure she likes you, Ty," I murmur, fighting a smile as I start driving.

"No, she doesn't," he grumbles.

Boys never know.

I smile to myself and we drive in silence the rest of the way to his school.

"How about we ditch today?" He grins.

"I let you ditch yesterday. Dad's going to kill me if I let you do it again today." I shake my head.

"Come on. Freshman year isn't even that important," he sighs.

"Yes, Ty, it is," I smile. "Maybe I'll help you ditch again next week."

"Fine," he mumbles, getting out of the car.

I start driving back towards my dad's house.

I grab my phone at a red light and quickly call him.

"Hey, dad," I say when he answers. "I'm going to stop at Starbucks. Do you want anything?"

"No, that's all right," he says. "Blood sugar is too high."

"Okay," I murmur.

"I'll see you when you get here. I love you," he says.

"I love you, too," I say before hanging up.

I pull up to Starbucks and run to the door as quickly as possible. I reach out to pull it open, but someone slams it open from the other side.

I step back so quickly I trip over my own damn foot.

Two hands dart out and grab onto me, holding me up.

"Shit. I'm sorry," he says.

I look up at him and blink a couple of times.

"Oh, no, it's okay. I was in a rush, too," I smile.

He studies me for a second and I take a quick second to really look at him.

Holy shit, he's fucking gorgeous.

He's got pretty green eyes, and dark brown hair that looks soft as hell.

And he smells incredible.

"I—um—sorry," he clears throat and my eyes snap back to his. "Can I buy your drink for you? Please? As an apology?"

"You don't have—"

"Please?" he cuts me off, flashing me a grin.

Dimples.

Holy hell.

He's got dimples.

"Okay," I smile back.

He holds the door open for me and I walk inside.

He follows me to the counter and I look up at him.

"I'm Lincoln," he holds out his hand to me.

"I'm Paisley," I smile, taking it.

"Paisley," he murmurs, a soft smile curving his mouth and his dimples appearing.

"Mhm," I hum.

He opens his mouth to say something and his phone starts beeping loudly.

Jesus fuck.

I jump, realizing that my hand is still in his and pull away from him, my cheeks heating.

"Sorry," he grins sheepishly and digs his phone out of his pocket.

He silences it without checking the screen before shoving it back into his pocket.

I recognize that beeping.

Don't say anything, Paisley, keep your damn mouth—

"I—um—sorry, this is probably going to sound like a weird question, but are you diabetic?" I bite into my bottom lip.

That was stupid. You don't ask people you don't know questions like that.

"I am, yeah," he tilts his head. "How did you know?"

"Family members," I shrug.

We get to the front of the line and Lincoln steps back so I can order.

"Can I just get a Caramel Macchiato?" I smile softly at the barista.

"Of course," she smiles, typing it in. "And for your boyfriend?"

My cheeks turn pink.

Boyfriend.

Lincoln responds before I can say anything.

"I'll have the same thing," he grins at her.

The barista smiles and adds it in, and Lincoln hands her his card.

When he's done, he looks down at me and winks.

I can't stop the smile from spreading across my face.

As he turns, I can smell his cologne again, and I have to hold my breath to keep myself from sniffing him.

We walk over to the counter to wait and Lincoln runs his hand through his hair.

I start picking at my nails when the silence starts becoming too much for me.

Lincoln clears his throat and I look back up at him.

"Sorry, you probably think I'm an awkward creep," he blows out a breath and rubs the back of his neck.

Honestly, I probably should.

But for some reason, I don't.

"I just—well, you're really pretty."

My cheeks turn pink again and I smile.

"Thank you," I murmur.

"Can I get your number?" he asks, blurting it out like he didn't really know if he wanted to ask. "Please?"

"Yeah," I grin.

He unlocks his phone and opens the keypad before handing it to me.

I quickly type in my number and save my contact.

I hand him back his phone and he smiles.

"You're a type one, right?" I ask.

"Yeah," he nods.

"Why was your phone beeping?" I tilt my head.

"My blood sugar is high," he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"Have you eaten yet today?" I ask.

"No," he murmurs.

The barista calls Lincoln's name and we grab our drinks.

I look back up at Lincoln and smile.

"I have to go now. I'm already running late," I tuck my hair behind my ear. "It was nice meeting you, Lincoln. And thank you so much. For the drink."

"Yeah, you too. And the drink was necessary. I really need to pay more attention," he grins.

"Oh, and please eat something? And take insulin?" I turn back to look at him.

He opens his mouth, looking like he wants to argue.
"Please? I'll text you in an hour to check on you," I tell him before I start walking to my car.

I quickly grab my phone and call Brynn as I sit down in the driver seat.

She answers on the third ring.

"What's up, Paise?" she hums.

"I just met the finest man alive," I breathe.

"What? When" she asks.

"Just now," I sigh happily.

"Where?" she gasps.

"At Starbucks," I laugh.

"What's his name?" she giggles.

"Lincoln," I grin.

"What does he look like? Send me a picture!" she squeals.

"I didn't take a freaking picture of him, Brynn. That would be weird! I just met the man less than twenty minutes ago," I sigh.

"So you're already crushing on the guy you met like ten minutes ago?" she laughs.

"You don't understand! He has green eyes that are so fucking pretty, and they've got little flecks of light brown in them. And his hair! It's so brown and looks so damn soft. And the way he smelled, oh holy fuck balls, Brynn, the man smelled like fucking heaven. I don't even know how to explain it. Like kind of woody and citrus at the same goddamn time. And it actually worked really well. God, and he has dimples, Brynn! Dimples!"

"Damn, Paise, green eyes and dimples? And he smelt good? That's you freaking kryptonite right there!" she gasps.

"I know," I squeak, tilting my head back and covering my eyes with my hands. "Can you believe that? And he was so sweet. He was in a hurry to leave and he almost hit me with the door so he bought my drink for me to make up for it, except he really didn't need to make up for it because it wasn't that big of a deal, you know? Like he could have just left. But he was so fun to talk to! And, he called me pretty and asked for my number!"

"Oh, Paise, what am I going to do with you?" She sighs, but I can hear a laugh escape her. "All those damn romance books you read are giving you ideas, aren't they? They've made you delusional."

"Of course they have!" I murmur. "Focus, Bry, that's why I'm calling you! You're not nearly as crazy when it comes to this shit! That's why I called you! You need to tell me what to do!"

"Ask him out," she says, and I can hear the smirk in her voice.

"What?" I screech.

"Paise, if you can't ask him out, how is anything ever going to happen?" she sighs.

"Brynn, don't be crazy, I just met him. I can't ask him out yet," I shake my head.

Yet.

Oh, who the hell am I kidding?

I don't have it in me to ask out a guy.

"Okay. Well, you better start texting him," she laughs. "I've got to go though, Paise. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay. Love you," I sigh.

"Love you, too," she chuckles.

After she hangs up, I get a text from an unknown number a couple of minutes later.

Unknown: Hey Paisley.

Unknown: It's Lincoln.

A grin spreads across my face and I quickly respond.

Paisley: Hey Lincoln!

What the hell am I going to do?