Page 20 of Coffee Shop Cupid
“We’re done playing?” I asked, collapsing onto my chair.
“You’ve got man problems,” Frankie explained. “That’s more important than poker.”
“You guys suck,” I muttered.
“Only omegas,” José retorted. “They make the best noises when you suck them.”
“Ah yeah,” Lowell agreed. “Get them so worked up they beg for that knot.”
“I’ll never understand alphas that don’t go down on their mate,” Alan agreed with a nod. “It makes a huge difference when the omega is into it, yanno?”
I sighed, and Alan cleared his throat. “Right, Chase’s runaway man.” He faced me. “Tell us everything.”
I shook my head. “Not much to tell. The first time he came in I only spoke to him briefly, after he’d already left the shop in tears. The second time I managed to make him smile, and promised him his favorite cupcake if he came back again. Yesterday was his third visit. I made the cupcake, but Natalie mentioned it while he was paying. He seemed uncomfortable after that, and ducked out when we got busy.”
“Damn,” Lowell said. “And he’s so important he’s got you this worked up after only that?”
I scrubbed a hand down my face. “I know. It doesn’t make sense. But from the first time I saw him, the only thing I wanted was to pull him into my arms. There’s this… sadness… to him. It calls to me. My alpha side insists that I’m the one who can make it go away.”
“Can’t explain those instincts sometimes, I swear,” Frankie said. “But they’re usually right.”
I sighed. “I just… I want to make him smile.”
“There’s always next time,” Lowell said.
I shook my head. “Something tells me that he doesn’t plan to come back.”
“Damn…”
“Yeah.”
∞∞∞
Monday—my day off.
Normally I’d try to get things done around the house: cleaning, laundry, et cetera. But no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about Tristan.
Frustrated, I pulled on a jacket and went out for a walk. Maybe the chill air would help me clear my head.
I purposefully chose a direction other than the way to the coffee shop, knowing I would stop in to work if I passed it. Instead I decided to go to a nearby park that had nice walking trails.
I needed to put Tristan out of my mind. He’d made his choice. I’d welcome him with open arms if he returned to the coffee shop, but I knew better than to expect him.
The park was quiet, with a few walkers and a handful of small children on the playground. I turned to walk a path that went through more trees and was a peaceful route.
The air smelled like impending snow. Maybe we’d get an inch or so, and I could focus on the beauty of the season rather than Tristan.
I turned a corner, then, as if my thoughts had summoned him, I saw Tristan sitting alone on a park bench. Worse, it looked like he was crying again.
I needed to respect his choice to leave. But I also needed answers.
My feet carried me towards him while my head was at war with itself. Then I was only a few feet from the bench, and he looked up at me, mild panic in his reddened eyes.
“Tristan…” I whispered.
He shifted, ready to walk away.
“Please,” I begged. “Please don’t run.”
