What the fuck is he even doing here anyway?
Here. Inmycoffee shop.
In my fucking space.
He belongs back home, in Minnesota. Not here in Iowa. He’s out of place, like a distant memory showing up out of context. Blindsided, bumfuzzled, betrayed. Ugh. I smooth down my shirt, even though it doesn’t need to be smoothed. Every cell in my body wants me to haul ass out the door but I know he’d probably follow and make a scene.
Has he been going to UCR this whole time and I had no idea? I’ve been to a couple of hockey games over the years but I can’t remember seeing him on the ice. Does he still play?
What the fuck is going on right now?
I get it, everyone is welcome in Bitches Brew, but as soon as I get the chance I’m going to add “except Justin-fucking-Ashe” in sharpie to the “Everyone Welcome” sign hanging on the front door. Yeah, it’s also pink.
“You forgot your book.”
My man-chest cover slides into view as Justin’s outstretched arm offers me my novel. I want my fucking money back. J.R. Blake, my favorite romance author, has a lot to answer for. This isn’t what was supposed to happen.Justinisnotmy fucking hero.
Except he kind of is since he just bought not only my caffeine, but Hen’s too, and he’s returning my current read.
He steps in front of me, still holding the book, giving it a wiggle as though to attract my attention. My face burns hotter as amusement and knowing dances in his gaze. Jerk. So I like some on-page spice with my love stories, it’s no big deal.
I could be a murderer. Or worse, I could be someone who leaves her toenail clippings next to the bathroom sink. What’s a little bit of sex between the covers? I’m a consenting adult. Or at least I would be if I could find my very own fucking hero.
Justin is still smirking at me. Judgmental asshat.
I snatch the book from his grasp and jam it into my purse. A frown pinches his flawless face, and he purses his lips.
Shit. My stomach tightens. Does he think we’re going to talk now? To start a conversation at the counter while I wait for my drinks?
Hard pass.
Hundred percent not going to happen, buddy. Just because you saved me from certain death with Athena for further delayed caffeination doesn’t mean we’re in some way even-steven. Not even close.
I toss a look at Taryn, convinced she’s stalling, taking longer than she normally would to make the drinks, to give me time to talk to the pretty-boy hockey player still scowling at me.
Doesn’t he remember me?
Another twitch in my stomach. Fuck.
Wouldn’t that be the kick-in-the-crotch cherry on top? We went to the same high school. Hell, we even ran in the same circles for years. I haven’t changed all that much. Not enough for him not to recognize me. Unless I really was that unmemorable to him.
Fuck.
Does he really not know who I am?
I’m not sure what I want more—him to remember me, or to forget I ever existed. One thing’s for certain, though, I amnotgetting into a conversation with this man. I don’t care how pretty his eyes are, or how my nether regions react to the gravelly timbre of his voice.
Once bitten, twice shy—that’s the old adage, right?
Justin Ashe took a chunk out of my best friend…out ofmein high school. And while I’m not shy, exactly, bet your ass I’m not giving him the chance to do it again. I narrow my eyes. Maybe I can scare him away by trying to emulate Athena’s resting bitch face. She is the master of saying everything she needs to with just an icy stare.
I’m pretty sure my face is as bright pink as the Bitches Brew décor, but my insides are as black as the accent walls. I need this guy out of my space.
He opens his mouth to speak, and Taryn announces my order is ready at the end of the coffee bar. Thank fuck for that.
If he’d said anything to me, I’m not sure what I’d have done. The only words I have for him are venom-coated and fuelled by the misdirected anger simmering in my veins. Maybe not so misdirected. Sure, I’ve been pissed at my parents—adoptive parents—for months, but my rage at Justin Ashe has spanned years and feels just as acute as it did back in high school.
He’s deserving of my burning rage. Even if he looks…likethat.
