Page 57 of Apparently, I’m Torture

Small movements that lasted bare seconds until Mia was standing in front of me, doll-like eyes rounded with glee, as if Shawn didn’t just leave me feeling as rejected as I’d felt all those years ago.

Five Years Ago

Chapter 22

Shawn

Tuesday

Tristy’s Coffee Shop

The morning wore on, and I kept looking up every time the door opened, hoping for Lilly to bounce in with all her energy; her personal brand of chaotic eagerness. And each time I scanned the arriving customer, my gut dropped when I realized it wasn’t her.

Damn. Was I in that deep?

What did I even like about Lilly?

Sure, she was funny, in a random, no-filter sort of way. She was the only person to make coffee shoot out of my nose because of something she said.

She danced too. A lot. And randomly. I knew it was part of her anxiety coping strategies, but damn, watching her move was more appealing than I wanted to admit.

She was the sort of person who didn’t need the numbness of alcohol to shake her ass, and her face lit with ridiculous joy when a good song came on.

Lilly was fun. Maybe that’s why I–fuck fuck fuck. I couldn’t keep thinking of her like this.

Eventually, Lilly rushed in, wearing her usual black getup and an oversized cardigan while holding a huge bag of heavy textbooks and loose papers.

At the sight of her, my nerves burst under my skin, pushing my stomach up to my throat. I swallowed and studied the ground as she joined us behind the counter.

“Oh… damn… this stuff is heavy.” She was breathless, and I filed away the sound of it for my guilty fantasies. “One sec, guys.”

She went into the backroom and dumped her stuff, bending over her bag. I stared at her ass, repressing a groan, before she straightened and slid her apron over her head.

She was completely covered and shapeless now. But I still felt my blood boil at the sight of her flushed cheeks. What I wouldn’t give to make her blush like that, to feel her soft skin against mine, hot and writhing underneath me.

She met my glance, and if she noticed I was staring, she didn’t call me on it. Instead, she asked, “Are you still okay for tonight?”

I swallowed, nodded, and tried to give her a smile, but just below the surface, every cell was bolting from one area to another, eager for closing time, desperate to be alone with this girl.

Shit. I was so fucked.

Tristy’s Coffee Shop: Closed

“Okay, I need a break.” Lilly put her fingers to her temples and rubbed, and I stared as her bangs brushed the back of her small, smooth hands.

The day wore on, and after we worked through the lunch rush, we closed the shop, and Lilly started nervously talking over her notes for the exam. She was chewing my ear off about it as she balanced the mop against its usual corner of the backroom, but then my stiff, rigid frame stole her attention, and her voice petered off as she looked around our transformed backroom.

Fuck. I was nervous.

I stood by our inventory racks, and tried not to fixate on the setup of cupcakes, cushions, and blankets on the ground. When she met my stare with a tilt of her head, I swallowed and said, “We might as well be comfortable, right?”

Two hours of mind-numbing study later, she needed a break, which was fair. But when she grumbled about how cold it was in here, I couldn’t help but look up at the blaring overhead heaters, and frown.

She leaned against the cushion behind her, and reached for her giant bag of provisions.

I made a small noise as I watched her shirt ride up. It pressed against her as she stretched, molding and straining against the soft curve of her waist. Her navel was a small slice of creamy skin, peeking from under the hem of her shirt, and my hands flexed at the thought of touching her there. What would she do if I just grazed my fingertip along her lower belly?

I forced myself to stop eyefucking her bellybutton as she pulled out a sweater and pushed her head through it.