Page 9 of Broken Pieces
“For my coffee. I don't need anything from you, except the muffin, because I’ll never turn down anything caramel-flavored. Now, stop following me,” she shoots back, turning to walk away.
I stand up and catch her by the arm. “Then have dinner with me.”
“Mr. Romano, you've sent me over twenty emails, which I’ve taken the liberty to ignore. Take the hint,” she retorts.
I raise an eyebrow. “I'm nothing if not persistent. I'll keep trying,” I reply as I release her and swiftly drop the five dollars in her purse without her noticing.
She picks up her coffee and muffin from the counter and flips me off as she walks out of the coffee shop.
A light and amused feeling bubbles in my chest; one I can’t resist. I throw my head back and burst into a genuine, hearty laugh. It echoes through the coffee shop, drawing curious glances from people around me. Maybe I’m losing my mind. All I'm sure of is that Aria, with her challenging presence, is nothing less than a mountain I want—or perhaps need—to conquer.
The next day, I wait for her right at the entrance of the coffee shop instead of hiding inside. Scanning the surroundings, I spot her heading my way. With earbuds in, she's nodding along to the rhythm of whatever's playing. Today, she's rocking some paint-stained overalls with a black sweater and white Converse. Her messy bun is held together by... chopsticks?
I frown in confusion.
Is she an artist? Those are definitely oil paint stains all over her overalls.
She stillhasn't noticed my presence, so I casually walk up until I'm next to her, grabbing one of her earbuds and placing it in my ear, catching her by surprise. ‘You Give Love A Bad Name’ byBon Joviplays, and a laugh escapes me.
Who knew she was a classic rock fan? Definitely doesn’t look the type.
She snaps her gaze to me, attempting to grab her earbud back. Being taller than her, I swiftly move, preventing her from taking it back.
“Who knew you were a Bon Jovi fan? What are you? Sixty years old?” I tease with an amused tone.
She stops the music, extending her hand for me to give her the earpiece. After a moment of resistance, I finally cave and hand it over.
“Not that it's any of your business, but yes. I am a classic rock fan,” she admits.
I nod. “I can respect that.”
“What are you doing here?” she asks, a hint of annoyance in her tone.
I hold the door of the coffee shop open for her, and as we both walk inside, I shrug. “I told you I'm not taking no for an answer.”
She rolls her eyes and mutters, “God help me.”
I bite the inside of my cheek trying to contain my laugh. I’ve looked forward to this encounter since yesterday, because Aria’s definitely unpredictable and very muchunapologetically herself. You don’t find people like that these days.
“Sorry, I can’t help you,” I say with a cocky grin.
“Did you just compare yourself to God!? Talk about a walking red flag.”
“I can accept I have a few red flags, but that’s half the charm, darling.” I wink. “So, how about dinner?”
She keeps her eyes on me for a moment like I’m growing a third head or something similar. I’ve never begged so much in my life, but I have a feeling the woman before me is about to change yet another rule I’ve carefully perfected over the years.
“See, Mr. Romano—”
“Call me Damian.”
She shoots me a quick glare with fire in her eyes. “Like I was saying,Mr. Romano,” she emphasizes. “This cocky attitude of yours doesn’t do it for me. So the answer is still no.”
She walks away to go order her coffee, which I already paid for before she came in.
“We’ll see!” I shout.
Without looking at me, she flips me off.
