Page 69 of The Breaking Pointe
“Elle, I’m sorry.You love that thing.Lemme help you clean up?”
I nod again, stuffing the box back into its drawer before standing up.
Never would I ever tell Lauren. It’s my mess to deal with, but the mess was never this big. I’ve never been assaulted in such a way that it drives me to want to be mute before considering telling what I went through.Suddenly there was escalation, and just as quick as it began, it was over. And he gets to walk away like the day is new.
Here I am, left to think about more traumatic events forhowever long my brain decides to fixate.
Who’stosayI’llfindanescapefromthisone,though.
17
use somebody
NOELLE
Pulling the strings of my apron tighter, I listen to an older gentleman tell me his very specific coffee and Danish order. Half of my mind is picking up on everything he is listing, and the other half is replaying Daniel and mine’s debacle from the other day, over and over again like a broken record.
I can’t think of a way to rid myself of him completely. He always finds his way back and fits himself into where he pleases. If I had been honest about Colton, his rage would have been a lot more terrifying than it was. Then again, I’m hesitant to involve Colton in something he has no reason to be a part of.He has enough to worry about in his life, I’m sure. Having a damsel in distress won’t make anyone’s life any easier.But for the first time in a long time, I feel truly seen, and not in a provocative way. I don’t want to push that feeling away because someone else doesn’t want me to have it.
It’s not hard to believe that someone might think I’m good enough.
I deserve to be happy, too.
I’m beginning to feel safer the longer I don’t see Daniel pop up again, but the shooting pain lingering in my back and arms is telling me to once again be weary of men completely. Idon’tviewColtoninthesamewaythatIviewDaniel, byanymeans,butit’slikeDaniel’smanagedtoreverse all of my emotional progress when it comes to trustingthat Colton doesn’t have an ill conscience.And while I contemplate those feelings, I’m also contemplating hiding because Colton will be here any minute to have coffee and see me.It’s why my focus is teetering on staring out the windows or taking orders. I hate that I have to pretend that nothing is what it seems. It’ll all just be sitting at the tip of my tongue, urging my lips to tell him everything in great detail.
The French roast smell fills my nose as the spout makes raucous noises while it reaches the end of its brew.Carefully, I take the handle of the cup into my fingers and add whipped foam at the top.I then set the cup on a small saucer and walk over to a nearby table with a teenage girl. I set it down, gently wiping my hands on my apron.
“French with whip. Enjoy,” I say in a calm voice, turning around to a tall figure, wearing gym shorts and a zip-up hoodie. Stopping myself in just enough time, my body jolts at the sight, wavering my eyes from his chest to his face. I know the color has left mine, and if he can’t see that, then he can definitely see my hands shaking.
“Don’t be so thrilled to see me,” Colton says, snickering with a cheeky half smile.
“Colton…” I breathe.“You scared me,” I say as I gather myself, looking around for a moment.
His smile mellows out into a more invested expression. “I didn’t mean to,” he says, leaning over to get a full view of my face.
Granting his wishes, I play it off and look at him finally, flashing a smile. “I know.”
His previous expression returns once he can finally look me in the eyes.
“You look very nice in this little apron.” He licks his lips, pinching and tugging at the bottom of it as he steps closer to me. “And your skirt…and these stockings, too,” he adds as his eyes wander down my legs, then reverse back to my face. “You pull off just about anything, huh?”
Maneuvering a piece of hair behind my ear, I grab his hand, twirling around to lead him to the bar, then sit him at the end and step behind the counter.
“How about I pull off making you a nice, hot cup of coffee?” I ask, grabbing a cup from below as I wait for him to respond. He rests his arms along the counter and nods. “Yes please.
Just black, no sugar,” he requests, sounding grossed out by the thought of anything sweet.
Accepting his order, I nod and turn around to start his coffee. Annie walks over to me, pressing against me as she reaches me, giggling as she does. She whispers in a private tone, right in my ear.
“Isthathim?”sheasks.“Yes—so be cool, please?”I beg.
“I’m cool, Elle. Just curious.” She pats my shoulder softly before grabbing the ingredients she needs and walking back to her station.
Turning around with his bland, dark cup of coffee, I set it down in front of him.
“It’s hot,” I warn him.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”He lays his hand over mine, squeezing it softly and letting go to replace it with the coffee cup.
