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The barista hands Mandi her beverage, and when she turns away from the counter, her pink high heel gets caught in a divot on the floor, and she falls backward.
I gasp as the lid of Mandi’s drink comes off and flies through the air, smacking the barista right in the face. A hail of caramel-colored liquid and whipped cream rain down on the counter, completely missing Mandi thanks to Mr. Perfect's quick reflexes.
He grabs her around the waist as she falls, catching her right before she hits the ground, and somehow steers her away from the spray. He gently sinks to the floor, setting her down easily.
A second later it’s all over, and Mandi lays in Mr. Perfect's well-built arms, gazing up at him like he’s just rescued her from a burning building.
He helps her up off the floor as the barista shoos them away from the counter so the staff can clean up.
The two of them chat for a few minutes until the barista hands Mandi a fresh beverage and gives Mr. Perfect his drink.
Mandi thanks her profusely, then turns and heads in the direction of my table, her arm hooked through his.
“Wonderful,” I mutter under my breath, closing the lid of my laptop. Here we go with the small talk I’ve been dreading.
Mandi stops next to the table, then places her hand on Mr. Perfect's sweater, petting him like he’s a well-behaved Labrador.
“Holland, did you see what just happened? Oh my goodness! This sweet, beautiful man saved me! I’d probably be severely injured if it weren’t for his quick actions. Of course, Iinsistedhe join us.”
Mandi’s squeaky little-girl voice climbs even higher as she smiles at her savior, and I can barely contain my cringe.
“I’m Mandi,” she tells him, “and this is my good friend, Holland. And you are?” Her voice is a silky purr as she bats her big green eyes at him.
Mr. Perfect flashes his dimples at Mandi, and I can literally see her swoon.
“Eli Donnelley, at your service.”
“You reallywereat my service,” Mandi says in a breathy voice I haven’t heard her use before. She sounds like she’s run a mile in under five minutes. “I was a damsel in distress, and so very lucky a knight in shining armor showed up at exactly the right time.”
Oh for fuck’s sake. Is she for real with this shit? I bite down on my lip to keep myself from laughing out loud, but it’s a major struggle.
“Guess so,” he replies, his tone light as he turns his attention away from Mandi and toward me. “Nice to meet you, too, Holland.”
“Yeah. Same,” I reply, nodding at Eli. His intense gaze is almost unnerving. I adjust my leopard print glasses before taking another sip of the cold, disgusting coffee. It’s better than thinking up something else to say to him.
Mandi sits down across from me at the table, then pats the chair next to her. “Please, Eli. Join us.”
He sets his to-go cup down on the table and takes a seat while I unzip my backpack and slide my class notebook inside of it.
“What are you working on?” Eli asks, nodding at the laptop.
“A paper for World History.”
“Who’s your prof?”
“McMillan,” I tell him. “Tuesdays and Thursdays at 9 am.”
“I’m in that class,” he says. “Haven’t started the paper yet, though.”
“That’s because he’s been too busy. Eli plays hockey for the Oakmire Cougars. He’s their best defenseman,” Mandi says, her green eyes sparkling with excitement. “We have to go to a game and see him play, Holland. It will besofun.”
“Uh, I’m not into sports,” I say, shrugging. “You should totally go, though, Mandi.”
“Now, Holland, I won’t take no for an answer.” Mandi gives me a teasingly stern look. “Don’t worry. We’ll be at your next game, Eli.” She turns and gives him yet another dazzling smile.
I shoot her a dirty look and open my mouth to protest, but she’s already busy asking Eli more questions about himself.
My feelings and I have been dismissed, as usual.
