Page 11 of Where We Met

She stands there holding onto the leash tightly, not making a move to let her dog climb in. Bailey is wagging her tail eagerly as she tries to move forward to join her new buddy in the car.

“Come on, Savannah. It’s just a cup of coffee. I won’t be able to focus all day if I don’t rectify the situation and get you a cup of your favorite coffee. Please, just let me do this. Think of it as a peace offering for both of us since we seem to be attracted to someone who is off limits.”

We smile at each other, and after another beat of silence, she finally answers. “Ugh, fine. Go ahead, Bailey.” She lets go of the leash, and Bailey all but barrels into the backseat.

I close the door and begin to reach for the passenger door when her hand swats my arm away.

“No! This is not a date. We are friends—or teacher and student—or whatever the hell this is. What it isn’t is a date, and men only open doors for dates.”

I laugh as I put my hands up in apology. “I’m sorry. I will refrain from all gentlemanly actions if they are so offensive to you,” I say with a smile.

She nods her head like she accepts my apology.

“Good,” she says as she opens the door herself.

When I walk around the car to get to my side, I can’t wipe the smile off my face. She is a piece of work. I love how she went from being shy and timid to telling me like it is within twenty minutes. It’s refreshing to be around someone who isn’t trying to impress me.

Once you become as successful as I have, women start doing anything they can to get into your orbit, like pretending to be someone they aren’t. I know this from experience.

“Okay, pups. Are you ready?” I turn my head and both dogs have their heads smooshed into the black net divider that keeps them from coming to the front of the car.

Me and Savannah both laugh.

“I think they’re new BFFs,” she jokes.

I pull out of the park and settle into my seat. Every other second, I find my eyes glancing over at the woman who’s occupied my thoughts so much these last couple of weeks.

She looks down at the floor of my passenger seat then up at me, her eyes wide in what appears to be disbelief. "Word search!" she shouts. "Oh my gosh! You're an avid word-searcher too?"

I have probably ten word search books down there. It's been one of my favorite stress-relievers since I was a kid. I used to do them all the time with my grandma.

"You like them too?" I ask her.

"Are you kidding me? I'm probably the best out there. I could do them for hours."

She is definitely not who I was expecting her to be. What college student in today’s world is obsessed with word games?

"I'm sorry, Savannah, but there's no way you're better than me,” I say, defending myself.

She laughs as I park my car in front of the coffee shop, opting to leave the car running for the dogs.

“This spot is visible from inside the building so we can keep our eyes on these guys,” I say to her.

She nods and follows me in. We step into the line, and when I look over at her, she’s taking a deep breath as she gets a scent of the coffee aroma floating through the air.

God, she’s beautiful.

“What’s your drink of choice?” I lean into her and get hit with another trace of that mystifying scent.

I can’t tell whether it’s her or the heat of the building that’s warming my insides. I fear it’s the first one, which has me on edge.

"I think I’m going to go for the blonde vanilla latte,” she tells me.

I give the barista her order, asking for it in the largest size they have. When I look to my left, I see the gift card display and act on instinct.

“I’d also like to purchase a gift card,” I tell her.

“Absolutely, sir. How much would you like on it?” she asks.

---