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Which is odd yet somehow refreshing. Most chicks nowadays stay glued to their phones posting selfies online, but I like that my girl is more private and that she doesn't appear narcissistic doing all that.
She's for my eyes only. All of her.
I sit up in my seat when she finally emerges from the apartment building. My chest squeezes painfully at the sight of her. Fuck, she's even more beautiful than I remember.
That long red hair flows down to her waist. I can see the golden hue of her eyes all the way from over here.
She's slim and lithe. She’s not so tiny that we will look comical standing next to one each other. I wouldn’t care how tall she is, though. I want her like I’ve never wanted anything in my entire life. I want to jump out of my car and run over to her. Take her out to breakfast for coffee. Walk her to work. Hell, anything just to be near her.
I hold myself back, though, not wanting to scare her off by coming on too intense too soon. Instead, I pick up my phone and send her a text.
Me: Good morning, beautiful. Let me take you out to lunch today.
I watch as she digs in her purse and frowns as she reads my text.
The little bubbles on my screen start dancing up and down.
Cindy: Who is this?
Me: I told you I didn’t mind working for it.
I watch her pause before she finally types again.
Cindy: Jesse.
My heart flips in my chest like she physically said my name. I'm dying to hear it spoken in her pretty little voice.
I type back.
Me: Cindy.
I see her lips twitch as she looks up and shakes her head before she starts typing again.
Cindy: How did you get my number?
Me: It's amazing the things you can find on the internet.
She tucks her tongue into the side of her cheek and shakes her head again before her fingers start flying over her screen once more.
Cindy: Sorry, stalker, I'm booked up today. You really need to just lose my number. This is not going to turn out how you want it to.
Stalker. Man, if she only knew how right on the mark she is.
Me: I can be patient.
It’s a lie. I can't. I can't be patient when it comes to her.
Me: How about tomorrow or the next day? Or just whenever you’re free?
She looks down at her phone again and pauses before she finally stuffs it back in her purse without answering me.
My jaw hardens. She's going to be a tougher nut to crack than I thought, but what she doesn't realize is that when I want something—when Ireallywant something—I don't give up.
And what I want isher.
I already know where she works, but I follow her in my car anyway to make sure she gets there safely. I don't like the thought that she walks to work every day. Anything could happen to her.
She says she's completely booked up, and that doesn’t look like a lie. I watch as her clients start showing up, a plan already hatching in my mind.
