Page 7 of Not My Love Story

Hayley was exactly as he remembered. Too observant, too tempting. He’d hoped sleeping together would be enough to satisfy his interest, scratch that ever-present itch to know everything about her, see her in every light, explore every inch of her mind.

That line of thinking could only lead to getting hurt, so Harrison had made do with exploring her body instead.

And what a fucking body.

It hadn’t been enough. He’d known it wouldn’t be, but he’d never been good at staying away.

He caught the eye of the barista over the counter. Tall, lean, dimples. The man was cute, in a doe-eyed, optimistic, kind of way. Definitely interested.

And maybe a few years ago, Harrison would have pursued it, but it always ended the same. A couple of hot and eager blowjobs, and then his attitude would send them running.

It was how all his relationships ended. No candlelight dinners, no walks on the beach. Just a quick lay, and a fast exit.

He carefully avoided eye contact when his order was called, checking the names scrawled on the cups, avoiding one withKellywritten in messy script. When his first sip was not the black coffee he’d ordered but an overly sweet hazelnut monstrosity, he grimaced.

Hayley’s Earl Grey mocked him from the counter.

“Oh.” A tall brunette giggled, appearing out of nowhere. Was laughing gas being pumped into the air of the shop this morning? “I think they mixed up our drinks. I’m Kelly. Obviously. And this extremely black coffee must be yours.” She held it out to him, and they swapped. “Do you have something against milk and sugar, or are you sweet enough as you are?”

“No one has ever accused me of being sweet before.”

“Maybe they don’t see the real you,” she said, giving him a once-over.

Harrison was not usually opposed to a little flirtation, even in a strange little shop on a Monday morning, but this was the second time in twenty minutes a woman had come on to him, and even his ego wasn’t big enough to explain that.

As he turned to leave, Kelly put her hand on his forearm, halting him and pulling a pen out of her pocket.

“Here.” She plucked the cup from his hand and wrote her phone number just below her name. “In case you get a sweet tooth later.”

What the hell was happening today?

* * *

He couldn’t even make it out of the coffee shop.

The collision was inescapable, considering how his day had gone so far. Espresso soaked the front of his shirt. Shock set in quickly, until he realized he wasn’t burned.

Something very strange was going on.

“I’m so sorry.”

Harrison looked up. He had no words.

This time it was a redhead.

What next?

The man before him dabbed at the stain, a wad of napkins captured in a strong hand.

Harrison followed the arm, taking in the rest of him. Gray slacks, matching vest, stark white shirt. The same interested glint as Beth and Kelly and the barista.

Was this all a delirious hallucination? Had he suffered a brain injury after Lee had broken the bad news, and now he was imagining himself trapped in a damn rom-com?

Meet-cutes weren’t real.

“That looks like it’s going to stain. I’d be happy to take if off you if you want — back at my place. Help you wash it.” The man’s jaw could cut glass. “Unless you prefer being dirty.” He cocked a brow and gave Harrison a pointed look.

Harrison looked down at himself, confused. Of course, Hayley’s Earl Grey was unharmed. He wanted to laugh.

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