AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Honestly, it’s a perfect face overall—even with that tiny star tattoo hovering just over her cheekbone.
It’s wrong of me to be so judgmental, but if the girl wasn’t so covered by ink and metal, I might have noticed sooner just how beautiful she is.
The waitress comes by and takes my order of coffee and the waffle breakfast with a side of hash browns. Then I turn my attention back to my phone and try to focus on the sermon, looking for inspiration, but I keep getting distracted.
At first, I blame it on the lively conversation happening between the couple to my left, but in reality, it’s her every movement next to me on my right. There’s something about those nimble fingers and pierced face and exposed midsection that makes it nearly impossible to focus.
So I give up and place my phone on the counter, pulling the AirPod from my ear. Instead, I focus on pouring four half-and-half packets into my coffee. Then I let my eyes wander over to the red nails drumming on the counter as she finishes her breakfast. When she picks up the ketchup bottle from the metal stand on the counter, I watch in horror as she douses her scrambled eggs with it.
I let out a stifled laugh.
Her pink hair flips as she turns toward me. “Are you laughing at my breakfast?” There’s a hint of playfulness in her tone, such that it makes me feel comfortable with a little light teasing.
“I wouldn’t have given my seat to you if I knew you were going to desecrate those eggs.”
She laughs around a mouthful, covering her pretty pink lips with her fingers as she aims her humor-filled eyes at me. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” she mumbles, chasing down her bite with a sip of coffee.
“I'm fine, thanks.”
With a shake of her head, her expression fills with mischief. When our eyes meet for a moment, I realize she might take this for flirting.
When was the last time I really flirted with someone? The last few dates I’ve had were all awkward arrangements set up by friends or my mother. It’s possible that in the last five to ten years, I have completely lost my game.
Not that I should be flirting with this girl. There is zero interest on my part, and even if there was, I could only imagine my mother’s face if I brought home someone like this. I remember what happened when Caleb introduced his wife to my mother and had to break it to her that she was a Lutheran.
The next thing I know, Pink Hair is grabbing my napkin-wrapped fork and pulling it out from the sticky paper holding it together.
“I’m telling you. You’re missing out.”
Then, to my utter shock, she stabs the fork into the untouched portion of her plate and holds it out to me. I could make a big deal about germs and her being a complete stranger and how inappropriate this is, but I’m too shocked and entertained to say no. Those sweet, nimble fingers of hers, holding the fork out to me, are too compelling for me to refuse.
So I lean forward and close my mouth around the repulsive bite of sweet ketchup-covered eggs. And it truly is repulsive, but the way she’s watching me is making it impossible to disappoint her. So I dab my napkin on the corner of my pursed lips and nod.
“Not bad.”
She sets the fork down with a scoff. “Not bad? You’re crazy. It’s delicious.”
Just then, the waitress sets down my two plates—one piled high with waffles and three dollops of butter on top and the other covered in steaming hash browns.
As she refills both of our coffee cups, there’s an awkward silence between me and the girl to my right. When the waitress leaves, Pink Hair turns toward me. “I’m Sage,” she says.
“Adam,” I reply, putting out my hand. She slides her long, tattooed fingers around mine and shakes it with a firm squeeze.
“Nice to meet you, Adam. Thanks again for giving me your seat.”
“Thanks for sharing your breakfast with me.” I laugh, nodding toward her eggs.
She blushes, covering her cheeks and looking away from me.
I hate to admit it, but it’s actually a little adorable.
“I can’t believe I did that. I worked all night, so sometimes when I’m sleep deprived, I might as well be drunk. I’m sorry.”
A laugh spills from my chest. “Don’t apologize. I should be thanking you for enlightening me about the magic that is ketchup-covered eggs.”
She knocks my shoulder with her own. “Stop it.”
“Seriously, don’t be embarrassed. I normally sit here alone and eat my breakfast. No one has ever fed me at the bar before.”
