Page 17 of Love on the Line

Chapter 8

Anne parkedin the lot next to the coffee shop. Red hearts adorned the lampposts lining the sidewalk. Several of the quaint shops had Valentine’s window decorations. She’d forgotten all about V-day. Since she’d never had a boyfriend in February, it kind of fell off the radar. Soon enough, social media would blow up with pictures posted of flowers and candy. Sometimes it sucked to be single, but with standardized testing coming up, she didn’t have time to wallow.

She couldn’t bring herself to get out of the car yet, wishing she hadn’t succumbed to some crazy attraction she’d felt with Wyatt that made her agree to meet, so she flipped down the vanity mirror to touch up her lipstick. One cup of tea, and she’d be outta there. Too late to cancel.

The scent of cinnamon buns and coffee swirled in the air as she entered the diner. Red streamers looped from ceiling lamps to booths, and cardboard Valentine’s cut outs covered every conceivable inch of wall space. Nothing awkward at all about being surrounded by naked cupids with arrows pointed at her.

Laughter erupted from the far corner of the diner, where a group of people gathered. A pair of crutches leaned against a booth by them. Her chest tightened.

She stood on her tiptoes to get a better look at the table. Wyatt didn’t have a monopoly on crutches. They could belong to anyone.

Tamping down the urge to leave, she approached the booth. As she got closer, a couple of people moved out of the way, and she spotted Wyatt. He craned his neck around the group and caught her gaze.

The full force of those jade eyes focused on her took her breath away.

As he slid out of the booth, people moved to make room for him. Someone handed him his crutches, which he waved away.

Almost as one, the crowd turned and stared at her. Heat crawled up from the core of her body. Everyone had gone quiet. Jeans, a soft pink T-shirt, and sneakers had seemed the right thing to wear for a cup of tea. But now? Not so sure.

She forced a breath. Why did she care? Just because Wyatt was some superstar didn’t mean she should have to dress up. This was a diner, and it shouldn’t matter what anyone thought of her. Yet all eyes were on her and hell yes, they did seem assessing.

“Hey, guys, my friend’s here. I’ll catch you later.” Wyatt slapped a hand on the shoulder of the man beside him.

“Yeah, sure. See ya.” The group broke up, but not before giving Anne the once-over.

She cleared her throat and faced Wyatt. Maybe this was her out. She didn’t need the pressure of approval from his fans. “It looks like you’re pretty busy. I don’t want to—”

“No, I was waiting for you.” And something in the low register of his voice sent a thrill through her. Which she didn’t like at all. Or maybe too much. His teal polo shirt brought out the color of his eyes. As if they needed any help.

He gestured to the booth. “Please, have a seat.”

She slipped out of her coat, and Wyatt hung it on the hook attached to the booth.

“I hope you weren’t waiting long. I try to be punctual.”

His lips curved, and he ran a hand over his mouth. “Punctual. You’re punctual?”

She cocked her head. Was he making fun of her? Maybe he thought she was being flip. Or worse, an organized, planning, punctual bore, which was what her last boyfriend called her. Even though she’d been the one to break it off, those parting words had stung. “Yes. I like to be on time and not make people wait. Is something wrong with that?”

“Nope. What I wouldn’t give to get my football and lacrosse teams to understand that concept.” He waved to the booth again. “Please, have a seat.”

Too late to back out now, so she eased into the booth. She had this. Get through the coffee thing and be done. She assumed her polite attitude. She knew how to do polite.

Wyatt sat across from her. “What’s that look?”

“What look?”

“I don’t know. That expression on your face.” He scratched his chin, brows furrowed.

They stared at each other for a long, uncomfortable moment, and then a waitress came over. “Hey Wyatt. What can I get for ya?”

“Hi, Sally.” He gestured to Anne. “Ladies first.”

Guess he came there enough to know the waitresses. Since it was late afternoon, she’d best avoid caffeine. “Could I get a decaf tea, please?”

“Yup.” Sally scribbled on her pad.

“I’ll have a coffee.” Wyatt leaned to the left and checked out the glass cake stands on the counter filled with pastries. He turned back to face Anne. “You ever had one of their cinnamon buns?”

---