Chapter Three
Caleb
As two baristas hustled behind the coffee shop’s counter, fulfilling orders for the morning zombies streaming inside, I pulled my phone from my pocket and waited for my name to be called. Last night had been the longest fucking night I’d had in a while.
Scrubbing a hand over my eyes, I scrolled through my Contacts and clicked on Calvin’s name and shot off a text.
Me: Eyes have to be on her at all times. We need to work out a schedule.
I looked over at the people placing their orders.
The first thing I saw was the honey-blonde waves caught in a ponytail and then the tiny, silver loop pierced on the innermost part of her ear. Her head turned, and before I could look away, her eyes captured mine. A couple of seconds passed, enough to make me come to the conclusion that either she liked what she saw or she was trying to figure out why I was staring. And, after keeping watch on a roof all night, I was sure I wasn’t shit to look at, so it had to be the latter.
The cashier tried to get her attention, but her eyes were still on me, almost as if she didn’t realize she was doing it.
Smiling, I pointed to the cashier. She seemed to snap out of what had just happened, breaking the spell. Curious, I continued to observe her handing the money over to the cashier. My eyes traveled down her plain attire—oversized hoodie, leggings, sneakers, backpack.
It was her.
Her name was Paige Wells; that was all I knew. And there was no way for her to know who I was, so I was even more intrigued by her staring.
Slightly turning my head, I caught a glimpse of her standing a few feet behind me. She was looking down, but then she looked up, and our eyes held again. I looked away as my body became aware of her, desire streamed through my veins and I inhaled. She might not have dressed with the intention to impress anyone, but she was fucking stunning.
Fuck, I shouldn’t be attracted to her.
Unable to stop the pull, I turned my head again. She was still looking at me, a bit of uncertainty and then a hint of shyness as she realized she had been caught staring. She looked away.
“Caleb,” the barista called out. “Egg and cheese and a large coffee.”
My gut twisted. Not only did she know my name, but she also knew what I looked like now. My father was right about one thing, but fuck him. He was the reason I had been up all night, watching her.
I picked up my coffee, started to head out, and then stopped and turned. Just like a magnet, our eyes met once more. I smiled at her and shook my head. This time, she smiled and turned away.
What the fuck?
I drew in a long breath at the very stupid thing I was about to do.
I sat at an unoccupied table, my back to the door, because, let’s face it, I couldn’t leave.
Paige grabbed her drink from the counter, and as she approached, she walked a few feet away from the table where I was sitting, obviously on purpose, as she had to pass me to get to the door.
I said, “Have coffee with me.”
She ignored my request, maybe pretending not to hear.
This was even riskier, but I said, “Paige.”
She stopped and turned, and this time, with her proximity, I could see her baby-blue eyes. But they were bloodshot, as if she’d been up all night, like I had been.
“Why?” she asked.
So, she had heard me.
“Why not?” I returned.
“How do you know my name?”
“What? Don’t tell me I was the only one paying attention to the barista when you put in your order.” With her hesitance, I snatched the beanie from my head and let a smile spread across my lips, cocky and so unlike me, but I had to get her attention. “It’s the beanie, isn’t it?”
A man walked by, and she stepped out of the way and toward me. “I have to go, Caleb.”
She had been paying attention, too.
“I get it. You have a boyfriend. It explains your eyes.” This statement was personal but could be useful in what I needed to find out. But an even stronger need was to know if she was single.
Her eyebrows crinkled. “What?”
“They’re red. Your eyes.”
She’d entered the apartment by herself, but she had to have a boyfriend. Although, what asshole would let their girlfriend walk alone that late at night? A bitter taste formed in my mouth as I thought about her staying up, having sex all night with someone I didn’t know about yet.
Shit, I’m coming off too strong.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . I just . . . I notice things. And I can tell you’re not going to sit. That you’re just going to walk right through that door and hope you never again run into the creepy guy you met in a coffee shop.”
She bit her lip. “You seem to know a lot about me.”
I didn’t know shit about her—at least, not yet.
“Maybe you should sit so I could tell you more.”
She smiled, sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, and sat in the chair across from me.
Fuck me, I didn’t expect her to do that. Dad will lose his shit if he finds out.
Paige’s eyes.
Her eyes.
Fuck.
I couldn’t look away. Her eyes were striking. At the same time, they pulled me into something dark and haunted but so mesmerizing.
“So, tell me more about me.” She popped the lid off the coffee cup, and steam emerged.
I watched her set the lid on a piece of napkin. “You’re tired,” I said.
She nodded and smiled. “A little.”
“You didn’t get anything to eat.”
“It’s six thirty in the morning.”
“Still, you can have half of my sandwich if you want.”
Her smile grew wider. “No, thank you.”
We couldn’t stop smiling at each other. It was the strangest fucking thing.
“All right, Paige, let’s get to it. Judging from your backpack, you’re a student.”
“That’s too easy. Tell me what you really know about me, Caleb.”
I rested my head in my hand as I observed her. “You like pop music.” I thought about the small piercing I’d glimpsed on the innermost cartilage fold of her ear. “But the edgier stuff, too. Maybe alternative. Rock. You like chick flicks. If you’re watching a movie or reading a book, you love a happily ever after.” I thought about her leggings and how they clung to her shapely thighs. “And you love to work out.” Her eyes widened a bit, and I grinned. “Am I actually right?”
“Maybe. Maybe I don’t want you to know anything about me.”
Paige brought the cup to her mouth and leaned back in her chair. She looked so tired. I had the urge to sweep her into my arms and carry her back to bed.
“Let me see your phone.”
“I’m not giving you my number. Remember, creepy guy in café.”
I grinned. “Right, but you should take my phone number. I don’t want yours. If you want to know more about me or if you’re a bit intrigued and you want me to tell you more about Paige, you’ll have a way to contact me. Completely up to you because I won’t have your number.”
“There’s really no point in that. I’m not going to call you.”
She was confident, so sure of herself. That made my lips twitch with a grin.
“But you’ll want to.”
After a moment, she moved her phone over to me.
And as I slid it back to her on the table, her eyes inspected the device like it wasn’t her own.
She was afraid. I understood. I didn’t like people knowing anything about me either. It was why I could read her so well—and not about the crap I’d fed her, but from the haunted look in her eyes. Her guard had slipped, but so had mine, which meant, for the brief second it’d happened, she had seen me, too.