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“How about we get some coffee?”
“When?”
“Now. It’s quicker than waiting for you to call, that’s for sure.”
This seemed to make her giggle, and she nodded her head in agreement as we boarded the train. During the ride to 0ur stop, she was pressed up against me. I couldn’t help but react to her presence and was glad there were enough people around us to hide my obvious excitement.
“Are you ready?” I asked as the doors opened to the station. I couldn’t wait for her reaction as the crowd pushed forward. Reaching behind me, I grabbed her hand in mine and fought through the horde. It wasn’t until we had broken free from the masses and popped out onto a clearing in the station platform, did I finally let go. It was as though a ghost imprint of her hand remained on mine, her touch permanently ingrained in my memory. My little piece of her.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
I grinned, “I know the perfect place right around the corner.”
With the break between train arrivals, we took the opportunity to dash upstairs and through the turnstiles before the next mob charged at us. I led her around the corner where my favorite coffee shop lay nestled, unnoticed between two bulky designer shops. Despite its prominent location, it was cheap and delicious.
“This is hands down the best coffee I have ever tasted,” I said, holding the door open for her.
“Well, if it’s got your raving review, then I’m sure I’ll like it.”
I ordered us two frothy lattes at the counter before ushering her over to the table, which looked out the front window. I usually sat there to people-watch early in the mornings, when I readied myself for a day at the office. Over the top of my cup, I watched her take a sip of the coffee and savor it. In the corner of her mouth remained a speck of cream, and I leaned over to wipe it off with my thumb. Her eyes widened at my touch, but she didn’t move away as expected.
“It’s delicious,” she smiled, “You really have shown me a little gem in this city.”
“There’s plenty of them if you know where to look. I love exploring Cherrywood Falls. It changes so much that there’s always something new to see, something amazing to discover. I’ve lived here my whole life. What about you? Are you local?”
She shook her head, her eyes staring out from behind her glasses, “Not at all. I grew up on a farm in the country. I moved here to live with my best friend and work as an intern. My parents currently help support me staying here, but I’m hoping to get a permanent job here.”
“I’m sure you will. You’re certainly determined…”
It was at this point I realized I didn’t even know her name. I was so absorbed in enjoying her company that I had yet to discover one of the most basic things about the beautiful brunette in front of me.
As though she were reading my mind, she said, “Beatrix Nestor. Everyone calls me Bea, though.”
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you officially, Bea. I should really get going soon, and I don’t want to hold you up from work. Might damage your chances of that permanent position, and I don’t want you to have to move back home. How about this time we both exchange numbers? I doubt that both of us can accidentally delete them.”
Her cheeks reddened at my comment as she handed her phone over. I gave my phone to her to enter her info. When I looked up, she was staring at me. It was the same way she looked at me on the train. Observing me. Analyzing me. But with something else there, hidden. I hoped that I would one day be able to find out.
I walked Bea to the Cherrywood Park entrance, where she needed to cut across to get to her own office. Before she disappeared, I grabbed her hand and grazed my lips across the top of her knuckles, all the while looking into her chocolatey brown eyes.
“See you soon, Bea.”
She tried to hide her blush as she turned and walked away. I knew that I had gone a bit over the top with that gesture, but I was happy with the effect.
Now I know you have to be mine.
THREE
~ Bea ~
My squeal resonated through the room.
“And then he kissed my hand. Can you believe it?” I practically screeched at Kurt.
“It’s difficult not to when you’re threatening to burst my eardrums. So, tell me again. Who is this guy?”
We sat around the massive dining room table in our apartment as we always did in the evenings. It had become our ritual always to have dinner and chat together after our day at work. Kurt’s work was a little different from mine. After all, he didn’t actually have to commute. He had always been a whizz on the computer and had somehow wrangled himself enough clientele to support his freelance computer programming hustle. When he wanted a change of scenery from his room, he would take his laptop and sit at the dining table where the natural sunlight streamed through the windows. Even in our small apartment, the oversized dining table took pride of place. There was an array of mismatched chairs to match our quirky personalities. Whenever we held parties, we always let our guests pick their chairs for the evening. It was more exciting than it sounds.
“It’s the guy from the train.”
