Page 3 of See Her

“That’s oddly specific.”

Shit.

“Or whatever aesthetically pleasing human the universe would present.”

“Do it, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Okay, fine, you’re right. Do it just to show me you’ve got some guts, then.”

“I have no guts, and I own that shit. Try again.”

“Do it so you can say you did when I nag you about it later. And sneak a picture, if at all possible, you know, just for posterity and all that crap.”

This could go on for days if I let it.

“I gotta get back to work,” I say instead.

I just make out her uttering the wordloseras I disconnect, and sneak another look at the handsome stranger.

He’s found a seat by the window, having no idea what he’s done to me by simply moseying into the place with the confident yet casual way he carries himself.It’s like he already knows whohe is and is comfortable and at ease with that; something I wonder if I’ll ever have.

My gaze darts back to my laptop and I stare at my screen without actually typing for a few minutes, my only focus being to not gawk at the stranger who has hooked my attention and will not let go.

Okay, fine, I peeked, and now he’s flipping through his magazine while keeping a hand on his coffee mug, and now I need to get back to my intense staring at my computer screen. This summary of why Hunk ‘o’ Rubber Tires is the best isn’t going to write itself and pay me.

I get to work and the words start flowing, but I can’t help but give an occasional look up at the man by the window.

He looks dangerous but sweet, and one of the fifty times I look up, he lifts his head to look out the window, but he doesn’t seem to actually focus on anything outside. It’s as if he’s just giving his mind a moment to wander, and I find myself wondering where it goes. After a moment, his head turns back down to the paper, and he once again seems content in his own company.

Something in my chest starts to hum. Maybe I’m envious of the self-certainty he displays. Maybe it’s just a chemical reaction, but I’m definitely feeling something; a desire to be near him, to hear his voice, to find out what he smells like.It’s like I can see his energy coming off of him in waves, and they float over to me before grabbing onto me and pulling.

My first inclination is to hide over here behind my laptop, sneaking looks at him until he leaves so I can get on with my freaking life.

But when I try to go back to my work, I’m stunned by a sudden realization.

I don’twantto not see him again.

I don’t want him to leave and go back to his life without taking a small chance on meeting him.

Before I can even think about what I’m doing, I’m standing.

Oh my God, I must be insane. This is all Annie’s fault for calling me on my gutlessness and putting ideas into my head!

I’m standing here awkwardly for seemingly no reason, and I have to push myself to step forward before someone thinks I’m having some kind of episode.

I suck some imaginary courage into my lungs and walk over to his table.

“Hi,” I say.OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod what am I doing?!He looks up at me, so I finally get a look at the part of him I hadn’t yet seen. He has large eyes that are such a dark blue they could probably be mistaken for brown at a distance.His expression is one of surprise that immediately shifts to interest.

“Hi,” he returns, his dusky blues meeting my eyes and holding on, and for a moment, I forget how nervous I am. I can’t help what those eyes make me do. I smile naturally at him.

On top of everything else, he has sharp and rugged facial features, including a strong jaw, but his eyes are kind. He looks at me expectantly with his eyebrows raised, the edges of his mouth seeming to be trying to decide if he wants to smile back or find out why I’m here first.

“Are you done with your sugar?” I ask.

Wow, smooth. I should be a columnist for how to hit on guys. Freaking Annie and her ‘talk to a hot guy’ bullshit. I’m going to kill her.

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