Page 5 of Vigilante
“I didn’t come for a coffee.”
“Oh?” She questions, rounding the counter.
Standing up straight, I shove my hands into the pockets of my black jeans and look down at her. She’s not short, far from it, actually, but at my six feet, five inches, she only comes up to my shoulders: the perfect height, the perfect face, and the perfect body.Dio mio,even her soft voice flows towards me, and it’s…perfect.
She stops right in front of me, adjusting the collar of her coat as she puts it on, then tossing on the strap of her crossbody bag. Taking a step closer, I bend at the waist, our faces merely inches apart. She smells like lemon and sandalwood, which is different than I expected but just right for her. At this angle, the two buttons on the top of her white work blouse give enough space for me to look down and...nope.
I curve my finger around the elastic wrapped around my ear, pulling the mask away from my face, and smirk at her. “I’ve come for the secret you owe me,mio dolce,or did you forget?”
A few seconds pass, with nothing except the both of us looking into each other’s eyes. And then her lips part slightly, the space between both looking like the shape of a tiny heart. And those sea-foam green eyes are trained on me, and everything fucking melts away. I shouldn’t be here. I know there is no way she could ever understand what I’m about to do, and getting her involved is stupid. It’s reckless...it’s fucking unsafe.
But selfishly, I don’t give a single fuck. Spending five minutes in her presence the first time I came here was enough to keep me hooked for life, and honestly, I don’t think I’m ready to give that up yet. What the fuck is happening to me. Never have I been this awestruck by a woman before in my life, but this little coffee barista has?—
“Okay,” she bites the corner of her lip, and my eyes drop to focus on it.
My smile grows further, curling up the corners of my mouth until it reaches my eyes. “Where to?” I stand straighter, missing the delicate smell of her already.
Pointing toward the door, she smiles and fuck me. I’m done. I’ve heard of love at first sight, fuck, I’ve even seen it, lived through it with my parents, but this, surely not.
“Out, and then we turn right. I’d rather show you than tell you.”
Julia bites the inside of her cheek. Yeah, she’s definitely flirting.
“After you,mi Bella.” I hold my hand out palm up, allowing her to go first, and as I follow her to the front door of the cafe, I press the door open for her. I might be looking to kill someone soon, but chivalry isn’t at all dead with me.
CHAPTER 3
Julia
The cold hitsus as we leave the warm coffee-scented embrace of Deja Brew. The streets are bustling with holiday shoppers and tourists hurrying to get to wherever they’re going. I find myself chewing on my bottom lip, replaying how he called me ‘bella’again. I admit that ever since he was in here, I wondered if I would ever see him again. I thought I’d seen him a few times, but it always turned out not to be him.
As we walk, I can’t help but notice how tall he is. I rarely find someone that can handle my height. They usually make some joke and then pick a small, petite girl they can swing around with ease.
He follows my lead down a route I’ve taken many times before.
“So, you’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” He asks, mask back over his face.
“You’re just going to have to trust me.”
“It’s Rockefeller Center, isn’t it?”
“Nope. That’s the other direction.” I smirk as we turn down the next street. So, he was a visitor, after all. I tuck thatinformation away, greedy for more details about my masked man.
As I lead him to my secret place, we fall into a lockstep with each other. A place that’s served as therapy more times in the last year since losing my mother than I could count.
My mom was all the family I had left, and when MS dug its claws into her, I was forced to watch her wither away before my eyes. Praying to the universe for a miracle that would let me have more time with her.
But either the universe wasn’t listening, or they didn’t give a shit because she was taken far too soon. Leaving me in a pile of debt that had me quitting NYU and working several jobs to make ends meet.
“Can I ask why you wear the mask?” I venture, curiosity burning to know all I can about Max.
He clears his throat, and I see I’ve hit a nerve. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” I rush out, worried that I’ve offended him.
“No, it’s okay. It’s just my mom. She’s been sick since my father passed last year. I already lost my father. I don’t want to lose her, too.”
My heart squeezes at his thoughtfulness. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know what it’s like to lose a parent.” He stops me, grabbing my wrist and turning me to face him. The heat from his surprisingly gentle touch travels up my arm as his dark brown eyes pin me to where I stand. He tucks a stray hair behind my ear, and it takes enormous effort not to crumple from my weak, trembling knees. If anyone doubts whether the expression ‘weak in the knees’ actually exists, I can assure them that it does.
“You should not have had to experience such a loss.” He says, voice low and almost angry.
