Page 4 of See Her

He looks confused for a few seconds before offering me a real, full-on smile as he reaches for his sugar canister and hands it to me.

“Oh… yeah. Here.”

“Thanks,” I say, taking him in for just one more beat before walking back to my table.I grit my teeth and curse myself and my stupidity the whole way, squeezing the canister like it’s done me some huge injustice and I want to strangle it.Basically, I pretend it’s Annie.I chance another look at him when I sit down.His eyes are cast back down to his paper, but then come back up to meet mine.I quickly look back down at my coffee,proceeding to dump about half a cup of sugar into it.What? I love coffee just fine – once I sweeten the ever-loving shit out of it.I look back up to see an amused smirk on his face.I feel my chest flush red as I put the canister down.I know how bizarre that must look to him, so I offer him a quirky smile and a shrug as he stares, like he’s waiting for me to take a sip of my over-sugared concoction to see if I immediately drop into a diabetic stupor.I take a sip of my drink, concentrating hard on showing him that it doesn’t faze me.I set it down and look up one last time to see him press his lips together in a smile and look back down at his magazine. I heave a sigh, lamenting my no-game self and go back to working on my laptop, doing my best not to look up at him again.

Amazingly, I find my focus again, adding a lot of substantial product to my work, although I must admit it’s hard not to look for the handsome stranger in my peripheral.From what I can tell, he continues to read, but I think I see him (maybe?) look up once or twice.I will not allow myself the satisfaction of looking up to see for sure.

Thirty minutes later, my paper is finally complete. I read it over and submit it with a huge feeling of relief. As I’m packing up, I decide to chance one more look at the gorgeous guy as I sling my laptop bag on to my shoulder, along with my handbag.

Then I look up to see an empty table.

Bummer.

Well that’s how my universe works, and probably why I don’t take chances that often – they don’t ever seem to pay off, thus my reason for the countless times I’ve settled.

As I weave myself through the tables to the door, I try to console myself.

I approached him, I let him know I existed, and that’s a huge thing for me.If something were to come of that, it would’ve, I reason with myself.I’m determined not to overanalyze or dissect the interaction to death. It’s self-sabotage. I let out a long breath and head for the door.

Passing through the door, I emerge out to the street, and almost slam right into the exact same tattooed, lean wall of muscle I’d been drooling over only moments before. The guy.You know, the one I was just depressed over seconds ago.The one I was going to think about tonight while I shoveled a pint of Breyers into my trap.Surprised? Yeah, me too.

“Oh my God,” I exclaim, catching a delectable scent of leather, musk, and man, before I back up slightly and look up to regard him. “I’m sorry.” The words seep out on a breath from my lips. Why do I feel so warm all of a sudden? Because his deceptively gentle hands are on my arms. This is just too surreal.

“Hi.” He lets out on a breath as he hesitantly removes his hands, satisfied that I’m not going to fall on my ass.His eyebrows are up, almost in a question.

“Hi,” I say back.He stares for a minute and then looks to both sides like someone will materialize out of nowhere and tell him what to say next.It’s adorable – and sexy, if I’m being honest.That a guy that looks and carries himself the way he does, seems nervous? Swoon.

“I can’t actually think of anything intelligent to say. I just wanted to talk to you. Again,” he finishes with a smile that looks self-deprecating.

Say what now?This can’t be right, but there’s no way I’m not going with it. I let out a big exhale as I briefly look away and then back to meet his eyes. Here goes nothing.

“I’d like that, too.”

His smile changes to one of relief and he lets out a soft chuckle.I like that he’s confident in himself, and yet is okay with showing me that he’s feeling awkward in this moment.He’s humble.

I am so screwed.

2

MAYZIE

“What’s your name?” he asks in a thick baritone that accompanies his warm smile.

“Mayzie.”

“I’m Jack.” He reaches his hand out for me to shake, and I find it warm and callused when I slide mine into it. It’s strong but gentle as it squeezes mine, sending a wonderful buzzing sensation up my arm that settles in my chest. It’s like his hand is sending mine some kind of message as he releases slightly, and gives my fingers one more squeeze before letting go. It makes my entire soul glow, and I immediately miss the feel of his hand as he gestures to the park across the street.

“Do you want to take a walk?” he asks, and I’m surprised to find myself immediately nodding as I adjust the strap on my laptop bag.

“Yeah, sure,” I answer, falling into step with him as we cross the road.

“So what were you working on in there?” Jack asks as he nods at my laptop that swings at my side.

“Oh,” I reply, blowing out a slightly ruffled breath. “Just a boring copyright job. Nothing exciting, it justpays the bills.”

“Do you usually go there to work?” he asks, tossing his head back in the direction of the café we’re leaving behind us.

“No, I just wasn’t getting anything done at home,” I explain, letting my eyes dart up briefly to take in the dark blue of his before looking away. And here I thought I’d found my confidence. “I thought a change of scenery might help,” I add. “What about you? What brings you out on a Thursday morning?”

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