Crave (Harlequin Teen)

look that good.
    My muscles tensed as he placed his order, the speakers near the grill filling the kitchen with his deep voice.
    I willed the regular employees to slow down, to take a little longer at putting together Tristan’s order. We were swamped with customers now, and all the other Charmers were still out delivering orders. Which left only me to deliver Tristan’s.
    Just as his order was ready to go, Bethany Brookes returned, granting me a reprieve.
    “Here you go.” I thrust the tray of food at the stunned blonde. “Car five.”
    “Uh, okay,” she muttered, no doubt wondering why I didn’t take it myself. Oh, well, let her think I was being lazy. Anything not to have to take that particular order myself.
    With a sigh of relief, I watched her go. No way could I have faced Tristan today. Not after last night’s dream. My hand tingled again with the memory of his kiss. I rubbed the spot and turned away from his truck.
    I could swear I felt someone staring at me.
    I tried to ignore the urge to rub my tingling neck. When someone else’s order came in, I was only too grateful to take it to a car parked on the row opposite from Tristan’s.
    When I returned, the relief was short-lived.
    “Milk shake for car five,” the manager said, sliding a red plastic tray with a foam cup toward me. I searched for someone else to take it, but I was the only Charmer there. Lovely.
    Clenching my teeth, I grabbed the tray, headed toward Tristan’s truck and braced myself for emotional impact.
    “Hey, Savannah,” he murmured when I reached his window. He’d removed his sunshades, and I felt the full effect of that watchful gaze on me. Maybe his wearing sunglasses shouldn’t be illegal, after all. At least they would have given me some protection against those soft green eyes and long, gold-tipped eyelashes. Why, oh, why, did the boys always get the long eyelashes?
    I couldn’t speak; my throat was too dry. So I forced a small smile instead.
    “I guess you heard the news by now.”
    That got me to look up, at least as high as his nose. “Hmm?” He was wearing an electric-blue polo today. A white T-shirt peeked out from beneath its opening. My fingertips itched to trace that ribbed collar.
    “About last night’s game?” he prompted.
    “Oh. Yeah, I saw it.”
    “Seems like everyone did.” His chuckle sounded just like it did in my dreams. “So, I suddenly have a lot of extra time on my hands. And a free first period every day.”
    Wait. What? “You’re not playing football anymore?” Why wouldn’t the coaches have just temporarily benched him or something? Getting kicked off the team for shoving a team-mate seemed a bit overkill.
    “Yeah. My parents yanked me from the team for the rest of the year.”
    Holy crap. Just like in my dream. My heartbeat took off. How the heck had I dreamed about this? Was this some kind of witchy thing, like clairvoyance or ESP?
    And in my dream, he said that Dylan and he had been fighting because of me.
    Was it true?
    “Tristan, did you shove Dylan because of—” Wait. I couldn’t say that without sounding like an egomaniac. But I had to know. “Um, why were you and Dylan fighting? If you don’t mind my asking, that is.”
    He froze, then lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Don’t worry about that. So listen, Bethany had an interesting suggestion.”
    I fought the urge to frown. Of course he would think anything Bethany said was brilliant. Everything the perky blonde said captivated the boys. Good thing she was actually nice or more girls would fantasize about murdering her on a daily basis.
    Tristan continued. “She said your team has an opening left for an escort.”
    A Charmers escort? Him? He’d be bored out of his mind. All they did was sit beside the managers at the football games. That and escort the officers around the field during the second quarter when the officers went over to meet and greet the other dance teams. Not to mention Mrs. Daniels and the new Charmers captain usually handpicked each year’s escorts. The job was invitation only.
    Then again, no Charmer would ever turn down the opportunity to hang on Tristan’s arm if given the chance. If he asked, they’d let him be a Charmers escort in a heartbeat.
    But why in the world would he want to?
    “Um, that’s an…interesting idea,” I finally managed to stammer out.
    “Yeah. So what do you think? Should I give it a shot? Am I Charmers escort material?” He put on his best grin and