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“Oh, can’t complain,” he answered, peering over the silver frames to address her with a friendly grin. “Just got the new Koontz in. Did you see it?”
Lennon held up the hardcover in her hand. “Way ahead of you,” she said.
“Ah, I should’ve known,” he replied, beaming. “Are your parents here?”
“No, just me,” Lennon replied, glancing over her shoulder at me. “Well, and my, uh … my friend.”
The dude named Bill peered at me with a curious expression that bordered close toward suspicion.
As I’d said before, this fucking town was hell on earth.
“I see,” he replied. “Well, tell your folks I said hi.”
“Will do.”
We walked along in silence for a few paces when I finally asked, “So, you come here a lot?”
“Ever since I was a little kid,” she told me. “It’s like my home away from home. And it’s close enough to my house that I can actually walk here if I get ambitious enough.”
“You don’t drive?” I asked, plucking at the new bit of information with excitement.
Lennon shook her head before pulling her lips between her teeth and hesitating. I thought she might divulge a little more. You know, tell me a bit about herself. But after a few seconds, she only released a sigh and continued walking toward the shop’s café. It was tempting to tease her about the secrecy. I’d seen her naked, for crying out loud, and she still couldn’t give me so much as a clue about where I might’ve seen her before. But then I considered how guarded I was about certain aspects of my life and body while still being ready to jump into bed with whoever glanced my way—or at least, I used to be. And with that thought, I considered she and I were more alike than I’d initially realized, and I left it alone.
For now.
A Kurt Cobain lookalike stood behind the counter, a loose, knitted beanie covering his head. His long dirty-blond hair peeked out from beneath the ratty thing, brushing the shoulders of his blue flannel shirt, opened to show off the Stone Temple Pilots T-shirt he wore underneath. The guy was the grunge era personified, and at first glance, I knew I liked him.
“Hey, Lenny,” he greeted the black-haired woman I was with. “The usual?”
“Oh, let me think, Scott,” she replied dryly, then pursed her lips. “I mean, I’ve only gotten the same thing every day for the past … how long?”
“So, one medium vanilla chai latte, gotcha,” he said with an amused shake of his head. He grabbed a cup and plopped it in front of the espresso machine, then raised his eyes to me. “Are you … together?”
His gaze narrowed as he studied my face while I nodded.
“Yeah,” I said, pulling out my wallet. “I just want a, uh—”
“Dude,” Scott cut me off, chuckling as he held up his hands and shook his head. His eyes crinkled with disbelief and mirth as he added, “I’m sorry, man, but I gotta ask. Are you Dylan Pierce?”
Definitely my type of guy.
“I’ve been known to go by that name, yeah,” I replied, letting myself smile.
The thrill of the job might’ve died in that accident, but it was nice to still be recognized and appreciated.
“Holy shit,” he uttered before his gaze jumped toward Lennon, jubilant and wide-eyed. “Uh, you didn’t tell me you were casually hanging out with Dylan Pierce.”
Lennon shrugged and pulled her lips between her teeth, just like she had minutes ago—a tell that I knew she was hiding something. Her eyes widened behind her glasses, sending a silent message I tried to decipher, and he relented with a sigh.
“Man, put your wallet away,” he said to me, waving a hand at the leather bifold. “I am not letting Dylan fuckin’ Pierce pay for his coffee.”
“I’m actually not a coffee drinker, if it makes any difference.”
“It definitely doesn’t. Your money isn’t welcome here. Now, what the hell can I get you?”
I wasn’t much for fancy drinks. My typical morning beverage of choice was a simple bag of black tea, brewed in a cup of boiling water. But Lennon urged me to order the same as her—a vanilla chai latte—and I decided to give it a try.
We waited while Scott made our drinks and shot curious glances in our direction. Initially, I wondered if he maybe had a thing for her, and who could blame him? But then I realized, no. He was playing the part of an older brother. The suspicious protector, no different than her dad. I respected that and kept my hands to myself, no matter how much I wanted to plant my lips on hers or grab her ass while we waited.
