Page 5 of The Moment I Knew

He looked up. Our eyes met for half a second before my brain caught up with my body. I jerked my gaze away so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash.

“I don’t see him,” I said quickly.

Ainsley squinted at me. “You didn’t even look.”

“Yes I did.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I absolutely did.” I tilted my head up to study the large chalkboard sign that read RECOMMENDATIONS. “I think I’ll get a Heartbreaker. How about you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s the name of the drink.” I pointed at the sign. “See they all have cutesy names—a Heartbreaker is a raspberry mocha.”

Her face twisted up as she looked at it. “How do they expect me to go up and ask for a study Breakdown? Can’t I just ask for a hot chocolate?”

“Ah, but the Study Breakdown has whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles, you can’t live without those.” I looked around at the crowd gathered. I hadn’t noticed until now but pretty much everyone in here was around our age and I recognized a lot of them, so a lot of them must have gone to Parkhurst like us. I wondered if the place had always catered to teenagers or if they’d played it up after noticing everyone was coming to check out Hot Barista.

Ainsley’s grip on my arm tightened. “Oh.”

I dropped my gaze to her. “Oh?”

“Okay. Clementine was not exaggerating.” I suppressed a sigh at her words. Clearly she’d spotted him. “Do you think he remembers you?”

I snorted. “How could he forget me? I turned his workplace into a slip-and-slide.”

As if summoned by my words, a sharp voice cut through the chatter.

“Next.”

I flinched. The line moved forward, carrying us with it whether I liked it or not. My eyes drifted upward, following the exposed brick wall to a narrow staircase tucked beside the counter.

“Relax,” Ainsley said under her breath. “You’re acting like you’re about to be arrested.”

“According to Clementine’s cousin’s friend’s neighbor, that’s not off the table,” I muttered.

She grinned. “You’re nervous.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“I just don’t want to be recognized as the horrible coffee spiller.”

Ainsley’s grin widened. “Too late.”

My stomach lurched. “What do you mean?”

She tilted her head slightly toward the counter. “He’s staring.”

I didn’t want to look. I really didn’t. But some terrible, traitorous part of me needed to know. I glanced up. He’d moved on from chatting with the girl back to making drinks, his dark hair falling into his eyes and his movements efficient.

But his eyes were trained on me.

Not in a curious way. Not even in an annoyed, vaguely polite way. It was the same flat look from earlier, sharpened now with something that felt distinctly like recognition.

Then his jaw tightened.