Page 3 of Stalked By the X-Ray Tech

I pivot, the click of my sneakers on the sidewalk a staccato in the morning hush. "Hey, Jacob," I call over my shoulder, not ready to let him off the hook just yet. "Fancy grabbing a coffee? There's this quirky little place around the corner. They make a mean espresso."

Jacob hesitates, his piercing blue gaze flickering from me to his car parked at the curb. For a second, he looks like he's caught in an X-ray, all his secrets on display. Then he smooths out the crease between his brows and offers me that half-smile that does funny things to my pulse. "Coffee sounds good," he says.

We walk side by side, but not touching—electricity crackling in the sliver of air between us. As we cross the street, my mind slips, unbidden, into the dream I had last night—a steamy tangle of limbs where his hands knew every curve of my body, and his lips...God, his lips were everywhere.

I feel a sudden heat creeping up my neck, staining my cheeks with what must be the shade of ripe strawberries. Luckily, Jacob is too busy pointing out an old camera displayed in a shop window to notice.

"Photography's a hobby of mine," he admits.

"Really?" My voice comes out breathier than I intend. "Well, you certainly have an eye for detail. Must come with the job." I steer the conversation away from my flushed skin, away from the illicit images dancing behind my eyelids.

"Detail is everything," Jacob agrees, his tone dipping lower, more intimate than before.

"Is it now?" I tease, wondering if he sees right through me—if he can tell that beneath the casual banter, I'm picturing him out of those snug scrubs, our bodies shadowed and entwined.

"Absolutely," he replies, and there's a promise in his words that sends another shiver down my spine.

We reach the coffee shop, and I push open the door, the scent of roasted beans wrapping around us like a warm blanket. I order two espressos with a confidence I don't quite feel, stealing glances at Jacob as he casually leans against the counter.

Before I can pay, he steps up and does it, insisting when I protest.

“Let me take care of you,” he finally says, and I swear to god the way his eyes pierce into mine, he’s talking about more than just the coffee.

"Hope you can handle your caffeine," I say, handing him the steaming cup.

"Handle it?" A smirk plays on his lips. "I thrive on it."

"Good," I quip, my heart racing with a mix of nerves and excitement. "Because I've got a feeling you'll need to keep up with me."

Where is this coming from? I am not this flirty, playful girl. I’m focused on my career. Tennis is my life. But with Jacob…I don’t know.

He cocks an eyebrow at me and plays right along. “Oh, I’ll make keeping up with you my business, Bella.”

Why does that send warmth tingling all throughout me?

I giggle and take a sip of my coffee.

“Walk with me to practice?” I offer. “I’m sorry I can’t sit and linger, but I’ve got to be there in fifteen.”

Jacob nods as he takes a sip of his own beverage. “I’d love to, and holy shit, Bella, this is coffee is fire.”

I laugh, a wholehearted I’ve-never-laughed-this-way-before laugh. “Okay, I’ve never heard someone refer to coffee as fire, but I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Jacob laughs too. “Well, it is, I assure you. I’m a coffee connoisseur, so if I say it’s good, it’s good.”

“Coffee connoisseur, huh?” I tease him as we walk along.

He grins. “Gotta have it to work the kinds of shifts I pull at the hospital.”

Jacob’s grin fades slightly as he glances down the street toward the hospital, a shadow passing over his features. “Yeah, those long night shifts...they can be brutal without good coffee.”

I notice the shift in his expression and decide to lighten the mood. “So, you’re basically saying you’re a caffeine-powered superhero?” I nudge his arm playfully, trying to bring back that easy smile.

He chuckles, shaking off whatever thoughts had darkened his mood. “Something like that. But instead of a cape, I wear scrubs.”

“Very modern hero vibes,” I agree, my laughter mingling with his. As we stroll towards the tennis courts, the tension from earlier is replaced by a budding familiarity, like two pieces of a puzzle clicking into place.

We reach the entrance of the tennis complex, and I turn to him, feeling reluctant to end our spontaneous coffee date. “Thank you for walking me here—and for the coffee.”

---