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I don’t have to follow her line of sight to know she’s talking about West. He’s been sitting at the corner table drinking a steady stream of coffee and eating an incredible amount of pastries. He never looks up from his computer except to check on me, despite the curious glances sent his way every time the door opens and a local strolls in.
“I’m going to go over and introduce myself. How do I look?” She fusses with her long blonde locks.
“You look beautiful.” She does actually—one of the prettiest girls in town. Unfortunately for her, West doesn’t do blondes. I’m not going to tell her that, though.
I busy myself wiping down the counter where I can casually watch their interaction from across the room. West’s scowl does nothing to scare her off when she interrupts his work. After a tense moment where I’m worried he’s going to tell her to fuck off, his body relaxes and he smiles at her.
He.
Smiles.
At.
Her.
The next thing I know, she’s sitting down across from him as he closes his laptop and gives her all his attention. I watch in irritated shock as they flirt back and forth. I’m too far to hear what they’re saying, but after fifteen minutes she writes something on a napkin and slides it over to him before standing up and leaving. He takes it and gives her another smile, making my stomach plummet to my feet.
It shouldn’t hurt. We are basically strangers now. The heat prickling my eyes and stabbing pain I feel in my chest is outrageously misplaced. I’m just thrown off by their sudden appearance and the news from Lars.
I turn away so he doesn’t catch me looking. He would take one look at me and know exactly what I’m feeling. I can’t believe after all this time he can still do that. It was what made him so good at bullying me in high school. He always knew exactly how far to go to press me right up to my breaking point before backing off.
The bell rings as another patron enters and I call a greeting over my shoulder while I grind a fresh batch of coffee beans. I’m greeted by the sight of Blake when I turn around. He’s dressed well, something about him that hasn’t changed. In dark jeans that hug his long legs and a soft cashmere sweater in a mocha color, complimenting his pale skin perfectly, his deep brown eyes give me a long, assessing look.
“You good?” he asks.
“Fine,” I say, lifting my shoulder. “What can I get you?”
“Just coffee with a splash of cream.”
“To go or for here?”
“For here.”
He waits at the counter while I fill a mug for him. The weight of his gaze on my back makes my skin itch. I forgot what it’s like to be in their presence. Even on the nights where I would indulge my fantasies and relive our night together, it never felt this electric.
I slide the mug across the counter to him, waving off his attempt to pay me. “On the house.”
His megawatt smile shines at me. “I’m still your favorite.”
“The bar is pretty low. I wouldn’t get too cocky.” I have to roll my lips between my teeth to keep the smile from my face.
“I don’t care. I’ll take it.” He winks and turns to go over to West.
“Blake,” I call out and crook my finger for him to return. I feel West’s eyes swing over to me, but ignore him. “West said he wasn’t the one to find me. Who was it?”
“Me.” He turns after answering me, leaving me with even more questions.
Why would he want to find me? How did they track me down? I’m going to make it a point to ask him later.
I spend the rest of my shift ignoring them as they work. At one point, Blake leaves and walks across the street to the building he is interested in purchasing for the bank. West doesn’t interact with anyone else, too focused on what he’s working on to care.
Ten minutes before close, Mitch walks in. I groan inwardly. This is the worst time for him to swing by.
West watches him approach the counter, closing his laptop with a decisive click. He doesn’t move from his chair, but his eyes stay on me while he lifts his mug to his lips, his jaw clenching and unclenching.
Mitch leans against the counter and smiles. “I’m going to Anchorage tomorrow to get supplies for the boat. I was hoping you’d have a drink with me tonight.”
A refusal is on the tip of my tongue, but I think about the way West talked and laughed with Jen. The way he took her number. “For a friendly drink, yes.”
