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"No one," I mumbled, my gaze roving up worn blue jeans to a gray t-shirt that sat smooth over a toned chest. Even if I wanted to, I'd lost the ability for small talk. As I quickly gathered my belongings, the seat groaned with his weight as he sat.
"I'm Armon." He crossed an ankle over a knee. His smile was one that probably worked on any girl on campus. And maybe it would have had me flustered months ago.
I blinked in his direction, forcing my own friendly smile. "Sasha."
"Sasha," he purred, sitting forward with interest.
Dusk's glow accented his gray eyes and golden skin tone. I got a second, better look at him. Dark brown hair swept smoothly back at his temples. He had a look of casual wealth, like someone who tried to fit in with commoners but went home to luxury. Yet he didn't seem pretentious.
"Wonderful meeting you, Sasha." He took a sip from his steaming cup.
"You too." I tipped the rest of my cold coffee back then stood to leave.
As I turned, he spoke, "Can I get you another? Please."
I felt a bit guilty for my short responses and slumped my shoulders. He seemed nice and maybe lonely. Possibly no different from my state of involuntary solitude. When I glanced back, I gave him a warm smile that ended with a sharp ache in my sore cheek. "No, but thank you for the offer."
"Am I so atrocious women gather their things and run upon sight?" He waved his cup to the barista. "Refills for us." He flashed a million-dollar grin that made me certain he knew the question held no truth. "Unless you have somewhere more important to be."
The only other place I had to be was at home. At the least, I could appreciate that he was nothing like the people there. It was easy to accept his offer. I slumped onto the small sofa.
"I have nowhere to be." I contained the sigh of relief not to go home as well as the comfort of not being alone. Nothing affected me the way loneliness did, and it ate at my psyche more by the day.
For a while, there was silence between us. Companionable, even. Like we were old friends comfortable watching the dramatic lives of college students. Armon seemed to be in his late twenties to early thirties, which set him apart. Maybe getting a master’s degree?
When the coffee came, I thanked him and held mine beneath my nose to breathe it in.
"What program are you in?" he asked.
"Nursing." My nervous sip nearly burned my tongue.
He nodded with one side of his mouth curled upward. "I admire people who help others. It's a tough job, but you seem capable to handle it."
I wasn't certain if he was attempting flattery given he knew nothing about me. I appreciated the compliment anyway. Though it had me feeling the pain of knowing I hadn't done much for Katya.
"What about you?" I asked, trying to keep my fluctuation of emotion under check.
"I'm the kind of guy your dad warned you about." He winked, sending a flutter to my chest.
I nodded. If only he knew my father. "I doubt that."
He took a moment to examine my expression. After the brief pause, his responding grin revealed dimples. He did like to smile, something people rarely do lately. "I fix things." His head bobbed side to side in a playful manner. "In a way. I like to think I make the world a better place, at least." He glanced down at the cup I held in front of my chest. "I'm surprised a woman so beautiful as you isn't wearing at least an engagement ring."
It had been too long since anyone flirted with me, and his forward behaviors were more humoring than I would have expected. My responding smile reminded me of the pain in my cheek. Then to every other misery plaguing my life. Self-conscious, I smoothed the brown hair down my cheek and glanced at my reflection in the dark liquid. Not that I could see the details though.
"Who hit you?" His straightforward question had a dry swallow force its way down. I felt flush when I met his curious gaze.
He sat back in his chair with a long, slow breath. After a brief silence, he said, "I shouldn't have asked."
I nodded at his apology but said nothing. Embarrassment and shame dragged claws through my psyche. It could be worse. It looked nothing like the bruises I'd treated on Katya.
How would someone from wealth understand cruelty? They lived in their ivory towers away from the miseries that plagued everyone else. Maybe he wasn't so down to earth after all.
"I know safe places for people in danger." Now his prying had become uncomfortable. He wasn't the friendly man he'd pretended to be.
I could imagine Anders would set this up so I would tell a kindly stranger the details of my private life, ending in me punished and as abused as Katya. My brother’s threat sprang to mind. Don’t help the enemy unless I want the same fate. She was an enemy to my people.
Armon leaned forward. "Like I said, I fix things. I can help you."
