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“You know, I thought we were friends after we got over the whole burnt mouth thing, but now? I’m not so sure.”
He holds his hands up in front of him. “Swear, I’m not making fun. It was just humorous to watch our impasse play out there for a second,” he chuckles again. Without an invite, he pulls out the chair opposite me and sits down. “May I?”
“A little late to ask now, isn’t it?”
“Damn, you’re feisty today.”
I shrug in response. He’s right; I am.
The barista brings our coffee and muffins over. The sweet smell makes me pause and hum in appreciation.
“What did you get today?” he asks. For some reason, it warms me to know that he’s already caught on to my routine of trying something new each time.
“Raspberry streusel muffin and a vanilla latte. You?”
“Blueberry muffin and a plain coffee. I went basic and boring today.”
“Nothing wrong with that. And it’s not boring; it’s delicious.”
Lifting our steaming mugs, we carefully clink them together in cheers before taking our first sips. I close my eyes to enjoy the first taste of the creamy goodness I love so much.
“Tell me about your week,” he starts, biting into his muffin.
“It’s been a week, to say the least. But today, I get a much-needed break after school posters were made, I’ve been up with a teething baby all week, and a gallon of milk was spilled yesterday for starters but there’s no crying over spilled milk, right?”
“You do a lot, huh?”
I lift a shoulder, blushing a little from his response. “I guess.”
“Don’t shrug it off. Being a mom is a tough job, and not everyone is up for it or good at it.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling my cheeks burn more. “What about your week? Busy?” I ask, wanting to take the focus off of me.
“Extremely. Work is work, but I do love what I do, which helps.” Nolan works in marketing, making up some of the best remembered and loved print ads around the world.
We have easy conversation again for the next hour and a half before he has to leave. Waving bye as he walks out the door, I smile and wave in return. It’s nice having him to talk to and hang out with apart from my sister at home.
Chapter Five
STELLA
Another week passes, and I find myself excited to see James. I try to play cool when he walks in and sits down at the table next to mine, facing me. Raising his mug to me with a smile, he pulls a pad of paper and a pencil out.
I’m slightly disappointed that he didn’t sit with me, even if I don’t have reason to feel that way. I pull out my Kindle and open it to a book that I’ve been reading for the past four months.
Minutes pass, and I glance up at James from across our tables. His head is bent over his paper, and it looks like he’s writing vigorously. Then I notice him glace up at me from under his drawn-in brows, a relaxed but focused expression on his face.
More minutes pass. Five. Fifteen. Almost half an hour. My coffee is gone and so is my muffin. Stuffing my Kindle in my bag, I walk to his table, pausing when my eyes stray to his paper. He hasn’t been writing. He’s been drawing. He’s been drawing me.
My eyes widen as I see the delicate lines he’s drawn with perfect shading. It’s beautiful and serene. The complete opposite of how I feel most days. “That’s beautiful,” I say, my voice sounding almost husky.
He startles a little bit and then flips the pad of paper over so I can’t see. Too late. “You weren’t supposed to see that. At least not yet anyway.”
“No sense covering it now. I already saw it, and I love it.”
“It’s hardly done,” he states, clearly not happy that I ruined his plan.
“Then I’ll only love it more when you’re finished.”
