Page 22 of Accidentally Mine
“It’s just a name,” I coaxed, holding her gaze.The sounds of the café became muffled, as if we’d been transported to some other reality.
“Roselynn,” she whispered, as if hypnotized.“Roselynn Reid.”
Not Rebecca.Not the girl from the newspaper, after all.Disappointment lanced through me.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, spinning the stool beside me toward her in invitation.I tried hard not to think of the way she’d been perched on that very stool in my dreams, knowing that’d get me hard.Wasn’t working.
She accepted the invitation, dropped her bag on the floor, and slid onto the stool.Her eyes swept over my face.“How is your nose?”
I’d forgotten all about it.It was sore, but nothing time wouldn’t fix.“Fine.Perfect.”
Anita arrived, pushing a black coffee and two pastries across the bar to us before topping my coffee off from the silver carafe in her hand.“I figured you wouldn’t want to share, cuties.”She made herself scarce before I could thank her.
Roselynn dropped her gaze to her coffee and started to add cream and sugar.
“I didn’t know if you’d come,” I said.
“I almost didn’t.”
“But you did.”
She finished stirring sugar into her coffee and looked around again.“I probably shouldn’t have.”
“And why not?”When she didn’t answer, I tried a different subject.“What brings you to Boston?Are you here for school?”
“I…yes.For school,” she said woodenly.
I knew it was a lie the moment it left her lips.What I didn’t understand was why she wasn’t telling me the truth.I could have asked her what school, but I didn’t want to embarrass her by catching her in that lie.She seemed worked up enough as it was.
“So, you’re not from around here?”I asked.
She leaned over to blow on the full cup of coffee without lifting it from the saucer.“No.”She turned to me.“Are you?”
“Grew up in Woburn.North of the city.I live in Beacon Hill now.What about you?”
She tore off a piece of her cheese pastry and popped it into her mouth.“Do you always come here at the break of day?”
“Yeah.Early riser.”
“Really?Why?”
“Insomnia, mostly, but mornings are my favorite time of day.And the early bird gets the worm.Or, like my dad used to say, the venison.My family was big into hunting for food.But the insomnia…that’s only been the last couple of years.”
She sighed.“I know what you mean.I usually stay up half the night and finally fall asleep at three in the morning.”
“You still come in here early with that little sleep?Must be some important work you’re using the Wi-Fi for.”
She didn’t bite, but said, “Yesterday, I couldn’t sleep at all.But usually, I get really great sleep from three a.m.to about eight.”
“That’s funny,” I said, slumping over my coffee.
She laughed.“Yeah.You put the two of us together, and we’d probably have a good night’s sleep.”
I raised an eyebrow.I had absolutely no objections.
She realized what she’d said, and her eyes widened.“I mean, you put our sleeping schedules together, and together it would equal—”
Damn, she was adorable.I placed a hand on her arm, laughing.“I got it, I got it.”
