Page 12 of Secrets in Salem: Part One

I lower my phone and beam at her. "Adam isn't here, so I'll have a double of mine please, Trace. And two slices of your amazing chocolate cake."

She wheezes a laugh and says, "Sure thing, girl."

I slide over the right change to her, adding a ten dollar bill in her tip jar like I do every time I'm here, and lean against the counter, elbow resting on the surface. Pulling my phone back up, I type out a message.

Basic Witch: Yeah, no. I've just ordered my coffee, and I'll soon be checking out the guys across the road. I'm not trading plump asses for fishing. Have fun with that.

Hipster Afro: I hate you so hard right now. Take photos for me and pray for my sanity. See you in a few hours.

Basic Witch: Consider me a prayin'. Later, loser!

"Here you go, sweetie. Enjoy," Tracey says as soon as I put my phone away, giving me a smile that creates the warm fuzzies in my heart. The old lady is like everyone's grandma around here. She radiates warmth and genuine kindness. It's why I love coming here and spending so much money on her coffee and food. She's a treat; she doesn't judge, and she really does make the best java in all of Salem.

"Thank you, Trace. You're amazing," I tell her, grinning when she blushes but winks anyway. I hook my bag higher on my shoulder before I pick up the tray, the delicious scent of melted chocolate and freshly brewed coffee gracing my nose.

Carefully, I make my way out of the café and to the outside seating area, surprised to find the stranger still sitting in his seat. His head lifts from his phone as soon as I step outside and he smiles at me, dimples and all. I almost forget I’m holding coffee on the tray as it wobbles in my hands slightly. Hell, I almost forget to friggingbreathe.

I offer him a shy smile in return before making my way over to the table he picked. Doing my best to keep my hands steady, I place the tray down and take a seat next to him, dropping my bag in the empty seat beside me. This chair gives me the view of the construction guys working on the new office building that's been underway for the last six months. Plus, it's a better angle for the pictures Adam is very seriously expecting.

"Okay, here’s your coffee with my apologies once more. And your cake just to sweeten it," I tell him, sliding his plate and mug over. I remove mine from the tray, pushing it away to place my own plate and mug down. When I'm done, I look over at the stranger, only to find him watching me with an intense gaze. He's still smiling, his eyes damn near consuming me.

I clear my throat and hold out a hand for him in an actual greeting. "I'm Willow, by the way."

His eyes drop to my hand and back to my face. The intensity of his gaze fades, that spark of amusement back in its place. He takes my hand, his long fingers overlapping my smaller ones. His hand practically dwarfs mine. Shaking our hands twice, he smiles before pulling away slowly and makes a gesture for a pen when he lets go.

"Oh, sure, give me a sec," I tell him, snatching my bag up off the chair. I pull out my notebook and pen, sliding it across the table toward him.

He clicks the pen and flips the notebook open, flicking through the pages until he comes to a blank one. With a neat penmanship that sparks a flash of envy, he writes on the paper.

Micah. It's nice to meet you.

"Even with the whole coffee incident?" I ask with a snort. Waiting for a reply, I take a sip of my coffee, watching him over the rim. He huffs a laugh, an almost silent sound, putting pen back to paper before sliding it over for me to read.

Accidents happen. No damage caused to anything but my shirt.

I cringe again, feeling awful for ruining his clothes. He could have planned to spend the day outside, and now he's going to have to do it with a coffee-stained shirt because of my clumsy ways. "You should probably send me the bill for the dry cleaning for that. Coffee stains are a bitch to get out of white clothing, if at all."

Micah shrugs and shakes his head, still smiling like he's enjoying our interaction.

It really doesn't matter. The replacement coffee is enough. Plus, you've already apologized three times already. I think I can forgive you.

Surprised laughter slips through my lips, and I almost choke on my coffee when I swallow a large gulp while reading his note at the same time.

"I also bought you cake. Don't forget the cake," I tell him, pointing at the uneaten treat on his plate. He nods, and I nudge it closer. "You should try it. It'll blow your mind."

He gives me another toothy grin before digging in. I look away since I always feel uncomfortable when people watch me eat and pull out my phone. Clicking on the camera, I aim it at the three shirtless guys taking a break by the fenced off area. They're all well built, perspiration pouring off them even in the middle of fall, and each one sports more than enough abs for my bestie to drool over. Adam will love this. Or hate me more. One or the other.

Hiding my phone next to my mug so I don't look like a creep, I snap a few pictures, attaching them to a message then typing out a caption.

Basic Witch: Here's your man candy for the day. Never say I don't do anything for you.

Afro Hipster: You're my hero, even if I hate you right now. Those blessed abs *sigh*

Grinning, I put my phone down and look over at Micah. He's already watching me, his eyebrows drawn down in confusion. His gaze flickers between me, my phone, and the guys across the road. There's something else in his eyes, something I can't quite work out, but it disappears before I can put a name to it.

"My best friend is missing out on the man candy he always enjoys when we're here. He has to spend time with his dad today, and he demanded photos as a substitute. I'm currently his hero for doing my best friend duty," I explain, unsure why I felt the need to go in-depth with my explanation. Micah hides a smile behind his hand, nodding like it's the most understandable reasoning he's ever been given. For some reason I can’t fathom, that makes me feel good. I don't feel like an idiot for going along with my best friend's crazy ass for once. It's a great feeling, honestly.

Micah writes another note, aiming the paper in my direction and pointing at my cell.

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