Was that his idea of a joke? This wasn’t how he expected an interaction with Noah to go. Whenever Quinn pictured it, at least the clean version of it, it was a couple of words exchanged and a signed book. Not a cheeky man who wound him up like they had their own inside jokes.
Noah’s collar of his coat was turned up, and a scarf was wrapped around him, so thick it almost covered the bottom half of his face. It was cold, but not Antarctic cold.
‘You look like you’re hiding.’
‘I am hiding.’
Quinn hadn’t expected this response. ‘Hiding from who?’
‘Hay.’
‘What?’
‘What sane person comes to a café at seven something in the morning? I’ll tell you who. Psychopaths.’
‘I come here every morning.’
Noah shrugged. ‘Point proven.’
‘Hey. You’re here at seven in the morning.’
‘I’m not around for long. Wanted to pay Cosy Café a visit before leaving.’
Leaving? Oh, so he wasn’t sticking around. Why would he? He didn’t live here. Not anymore.
‘What, got some attachment to Cosy Café, have you?’
‘Actually, yes,’ Noah said. ‘Used to come here all the time. It’s the setting I used for a café in one of my books.’
‘The Morning Sunshine Café?’
Quinn hated himself for knowing what café Noah meant. So much for even pretending to play it cool.
Before Noah could say anything, Quinn spoke again, as if his next words would erase the confession he’d made about reading Noah’s works.
‘Anyway, why are you hiding from Hay?’
‘I don’t love coming into the town.’
‘Then why come here?’
‘A person should always face their fears,’ Noah said.
‘Well, if you’re trying to hide, you could at least…’ Quinn didn’t finish the sentence, but instead reached for the collar of Noah’s coat. Crooked, it allowed a glimpse of the person behind it. Taking the coat collar, he adjusted it so that it stood rigid, but as Quinn drew his hand away, he felt his fingers graze Noah’s cheek.
Their eyes met. Noah smirked.
‘Enjoy your coffee, hippie.’
He stepped away from the door onto the street and walked away like he hadn’t just made Quinn’s legs weak.
‘I am not a hippie,’ Quinn whispered, because speaking it loudly was too scary. He could still feel Noah under his fingertips. He wasn’t a mirage. He was a physical being.
He ordered his coffee in a daze, then walked back towards his shop with his to-go cup. As he strolled towards his shop, he looked up at the castle. The final eviction notice came to mind, and he felt the fear grip him.
A person should always face their fears.
The castle made him fearful. At least the person behind the castle frightened him. And he was in there right now.
