IN THE FEW DAYS THAT I’ve been in town, I quickly learned Saylor isn’t a morning person. Anything before ten-thirty in the morning is considered too early to her. I assume it’s in large part due to the fact that she works all night shifts at the bar, not getting up into the apartment until one a.m. most mornings.
Because I’m the total opposite, rising by eight a.m. latest every day no matter how late I work the day before, I thought I’d come down to the local cafe that’s only a few doors down from the bar. She mentioned how much she loves their coffee and berry scones, and because she’s done so much for me in the last few days, this is the least I can do.
So as quietly as I could, I tossed on leggings and a baggy tee, tiptoed through the apartment, then made the couple-minute walk to the coffee shop, taking a moment or two to survey the main street as I went; the store fronts, the people, the scenery. Everyone seems friendly, and the lush trees and mountains are stunning. All of it new, the fresh start I needed.
Sunvale isn’t as small as where I’m from, not by a long shot, but it’s far from a city. So when I walked through the door of the café a few minutes ago, I was surprised to find it so busy. There’s a line six or so people deep with most of the tables and booths filled with patrons.
Utensils scrape against plates, coffee mugs clatter, and small talk between friends and family fills the quaint space. It smells delicious in here, too. Like freshly-brewed coffee and just-out-of-the-oven sweet treats. I smile, the atmosphere so inviting.
After scanning the menus above the counter and knowing what to get, the line moves fairly quickly and before I know it, I’m placing my order with the young girl behind the counter. The barista tells me it’ll be a few minutes, so I move to the side and wait at the counter.
While I’m waiting, I catch sight of a guy sitting at a table to my left. He stands, and at first I think it’s because he’s leaving or needing something for his coffee. So I shuffle forward and to the right a little to make room for him either way, but he doesn’t do either. The guy, I’d say around my age and a few inches taller with blond hair, walks right up to me, huge grin on his face. Immediately I feel uneasy, the way his blue eyes run over me—head to toe. Leering and salacious.
“I was sitting over there, saw you come in, and I knew I needed to come on over and meet you.”
I try to smile politely, but I’m thinking it comes out more as a grimace than anything. Not knowing what to say, I just nod and turn back to face the counter fully. Hoping that if I ignore him, he’ll go away.
No such luck.
“You’ve got to be the hottest chick I’ve ever seen,” he says to the side of my face.
Uncomfortable now, I’m shocked a bit into silence because I’m not getting the usual butterflies that I normally get from a guy’s attention. The shock is apparently too long because he keeps on talking.
“Can I have your name? I’m Justin, by the way.” He steps closer.
My warning bells are blaring, my mind reeling, trying to think of a way I can get away from him. I don’t expect he’d do any harm, especially since we’re in a crowded coffee shop, but the way he’s looking at me makes my skin crawl.
I turn to him then, though I don’t want to, and see his all-too-eager eyes and smile and all over demeanor ratchet up another notch at my attention. “Look, Justin, you said?” He nods, so I continue. “I’m flattered, really.” Though I’m not. “I’m just waiting on my order, and once it’s here, I’m gone. I appreciate the small talk, but I’m not interested.”
Proud of myself for turning his attention away, I move to face the counter yet again. Hoping my order will be ready any second.
It’s then I feel a presence at my other side. Large, commanding, familiar.
“Mornin’, angel.”
Rhett.
My eyes close on a slow blink and a deep breath, somewhat relieved that he’s here but confused and agitated more than anything. I just met this man a couple days before, one who’s had me off-kilter ever since, and now he’s here and I don’t know how to feel.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Fine, just waiting on my order.” I shuffle another step that brings me a little closer to Rhett.
“This kid bothering you?” His voice dropping an octave or two.
“No. He was just leaving.”
“Hey, come on now—”
Justin reaches out a hand as if he’s going to place it on my shoulder, but Rhett’s not having any of that.
He walks right up to this guy, towering over him, then gently moves me to stand behind him. Speaking low, Rhett addresses him only loud enough for the three of us to hear. “Pretty sure the lady just said you were about to leave. Seems like a good idea to me. Move the fuck on because you won’t be getting her name. And think about touching her again, I’ll rip your fuckin’ arm from its socket.”
I look around the cafe, mortified, hoping no one is watching the scene I’m afraid we’re starting to make. My eyes practically bulge at hearing what Rhett just said.
My heart pitter-patters at the gesture. Something I need to stop and control, because nothing can happen. Not ever. Men are my weakness and Rhett…he’d be my biggest downfall if I let him close. Plus this move, it wasn’t to find another man to use and abuse me. It was to find me.
Justin startles at Rhett’s threat and scurries away, not sparing me a glance as he books it passed us.
Relief filters through, until I realize it leaves Rhett and me alone.
“You sure you’re okay, angel?” A gentle hand skims my shoulder, feather light.
I suppress the shiver that tries to run through me. But not from disgust…from want.
I need to get it together.
Clearing my throat, I’m able to answer. “Yes, I am, thank you. And thank you for stepping in. He just walked up and started talking.”
“He do anything else?”
“No.” I shake my head emphatically. “He walked up, called me hot, asked for my name, and then that’s when you showed up.”
“Damn punk-ass kid. Thinking he can waltz up on you. Touch you.” His fists clench at his sides.
“I’m fine, really, but thank you. I’m glad you were here. I wasn’t sure what to say and was worried he’d keep going even though I was trying to ignore him.”
“Glad I came when I did, too, angel. Not liking knowing you were made to feel uncomfortable. But damn relieved I was here to help.”
I smile a small smile at that.
“Gotta say, when I walked in and saw you standing there, I couldn’t believe my luck. Then when I saw that peckerhead standing next to you and how upset you seemed, I ‘bout near ripped him apart.”
“Kennedy.” The barista calls out.
Finally. Giving me the out I needed so I don’t have to respond.
“Well, thanks again,” I tell him, before walking up to grab my order.
“Yeah, no problem, angel.” His tone holds a note of confusion at my abrupt exit.
With pastry bag and drink tray in hand, I quickly walk out of the cafe to head back to the apartment, beyond flustered at what just happened.
The audacity of both of them has me well passed irritated.
That guy—Justin—for coming on to me. And Rhett for…for just being there in the first place and making me feel how I feel. Being all attractive and charming and protective.
Once I make it back to the bar, I take the stairs to the apartment and practically barrel through the front door.
“You alright, sweets?” Saylor asks in way of greeting. I’m so flustered by my entire morning, I can’t even be surprised that it’s barely nine o’clock and she’s already awake.
I huff. “Yeah, fine.” Distracted as I remove cups from the tray and pull out the scones to plate.
“Doesn’t sound like it,” she responds before taking a sip of her coffee. “Ah, nectar of the gods, I tell ya. Perfect. Now tell me.” She leans on the island between us. “What’s got your feathers all ruffled this fine morning?”
Taking a sip of my own iced coffee, I think over my response. “I ran into your brother at the cafe just now.”
“Oh.” Her eyes light up. “Do tell. What happened?”
“Well, since you were still sleeping, I thought I’d walk over to that coffee shop you’re always raving about.”
“Thank you for this by the way.” She holds up her coffee and scone with a smile.
“When I’m there, waiting for our order, this guy walks up to me and proceeds to hit on me. He was about my age but creeped me the heck out. Just the way he was looking at me, it made me uneasy.”
“What a goddamn jerk! Please tell me my brother put him in his place?”
Closing my eyes, I nod.
“Hell yeah, he did.” She pumps her coffee-free fist into the air.
I roll my now-open eyes. “I was mortified, Saylor. First because of that creep talking to me. I didn’t know what to do besides ignore him, and then because of your brother coming to the rescue. He wasn’t loud, but the things he said.” I run a hand through my long hair. “He threatened to rip his arm from his socket, for goodness sakes,” I say on a sigh.
Saylor shrugs. “Sounds about right. Rhett’s never been one to beat around the bush. He tells it like it is, and if he felt that was necessary, I’d bet my left tit it was.”
I shake my head, both at her choice of words and the situation. “I’ve talked to him twice now, Saylor. That’s it. We only met a few days ago. But how he acted, the things he said, you’d think we’d known each other a lifetime. But we haven’t. I barely even know him.” Though a feeling settles deep and won’t let go the couple times I’ve been in his presence. Like I do know him. But it’s something I ignore and will continue to.
Saylor smirks, her dark eyes so much like her brother’s twinkling. “Told you girl. My brother is smitten. Makin’ his interest known.” She winks, then bites into her scone, talking with her mouthful. “The Shaw Effect.”