Page 15 of Bleed
Every time the little bell above the door jingles, I perk up and look over, but as of yet, the blonde with the crochet hat hasn’t arrived.
Maybe it was just that one day and you’re wasting your time while you could be out catching Jonathan Mercer and the Recluse.
Over and over again I check out who comes in, until the sun starts to set, and the ninth espresso has passed through me like a liquid freight train. My stomach is protesting the lack of food, and my bladder is quite angry with me as I reposition on the seat, crossing my legs uncomfortably.
“Fuck it.” I curse to myself, getting up and stretching my arms over my head, then leaning backwards to loosen up everything that’s tightened up in my hours of doing nothing but drinking the caffeinated drinks and hoping to see her.
She ain’t coming in this late. Just take a piss and grab something to eat.
The restroom is thankfully clean, and I can get in and out in less than two minutes. I hate public bathrooms, they’re usually always gross and smell like stale urine and those blue cakes they toss in the never-washed urinals. Like those things are supposed to magically clean them.
Using a paper towel to open the door after I wash my hands, I whip it open and head down the small hallway back into the café, stopping in my tracks when I see a cute, brown, crochet cap standing in line at the counter.
“Of course you’d arrive when I was in the can.” I grumble under my breath. “I didn’t get to see your face.”
Walking super slow, like the floor will give out from me if I go any faster, I make my way to the line, thankful that no one is behind her. Falling in after her, I get as close as I can to her without acting like a creep. She smells divine, like jasmine, and the scent matches the knee length, flowy dress with bright flowers all over it. A sweater and brown cowgirl boots complete the outfit, making her look chic and reserved at the same time.
Another floral scent wafts up my nose as she answers her phone with a bright greeting to someone and tosses her hair back over her shoulder.
“Allie. I’m already here. Perfect. See you soon.” She says into her cell before pushing it back into a little brown shoulder bag, then stepping up to place her order.
Her voice is familiar, but it’s not slapping me in the face, and maybe, just maybe I’m wrong and she’s not Dani, not the woman I once loved before she left with no goodbye.
I can feel my heart climbing up in my throat as I listen to her order her drink, and one for whomever I’m assuming was on the phone. Allie, I think I heard her say. I don’t recognize the name, but I was kind of an absentee boyfriend and didn’t pay much attention to things like that.
And you wonder why she left you.
It’s her coffee order that rings a bell, one much louder than the one above the door behind me that’s jingling again.
“Iced caramel Macchiato, extra whip. Can I have sprinkles on top too?” She says to the barista behind the register. “And an Americano. Both for here.”
It’s her. Motherfucker, it’s her.
“Dani?” I squeak out, then clear my throat, rubbing at it with my fingers. “Dani?”
I watch as she freezes in place, her hand half in and out of her purse, reaching for her wallet. Her body tenses, and I hear a big intake of breath from her before she speaks.
“Damien?” She says shakily without turning around, and I swear the sound of my name is laced with fear.
“Yeah.” I answer, wanting to reach out to touch her, to brush her hair off her shoulder with my trembling fingers. “It’s me.”
It’s like time stands still as I brush nothing but air, and she stands still facing away from me. I can see the barista on the other side of the counter staring, boring holes into me with her dark eyes because we’re holding up the line, but I don’t care. I need this, she needs this. I fucking need her.
“Dani!” A voice comes out from behind us, all chipper and excited until the woman who just blew in the door stops and stares at me and her back. “Dani? This creep bothering you?”
“Fuck off, Allie.” I grunt, knowing she’s the one who was the other end of the phone call.
“Well then, douche.” She says back, crinkling her nose at me, making the band of freckles over her nose move and dance.
She a pale skinned, ginger, with bright blue eyes that stare at me with disdain. I don’t know her and already I can’t stand her.
“This creep would like a minute with your friend.” I hiss at her.
“Best friend, get it right. And everything you say to her, you say in front of me.” She says, looking me up and down. “I’ve heard about you, and I don’t like you.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
“Enough. Both of you.” Dani says, finally turning around, taking my fucking breath away just like she used to.
