Page 23 of Stranger Session

I would do anything to take back that moment in the cooler. How far could we have gone if I hadn’t touched her earlobe? Was she an orgasm away from falling in love with me? Would our conversations have switched from pure sex to something more? I could have remained her nightmare, but I could have been her dream too.

When I reach my car, I make a decision. I’m going to confront her. Because why not? What do I have to lose? She’s gone off the chat. User not found. If I text her, she’ll just block my number. I need to come face to face with her. I need to explain myself at least. She can deny me all she wants after that, but I at least need a chance to explain why I did what I did.

So I turn the keys in the ignition and drive toward the coffee shop like any normal, sane human would do. I park outside and head into the building, where I meld into the back of a line that nearly snakes out the door.

I spot her behind the counter. Her dark hair bobs in a ponytail as she rushes from one machine to the other. She hasn’t seen me, and watching her in her element is almost too much to bear. She bites her lip to avoid saying something to a rude customer. She brushes her hair back when she’s flustered. She’s so focused on everything in front of her, and I can’t help but wonder when she’ll notice me or how her face will change when she finally does.

The line gets shorter. Now there’s only a handful of angry, bitter customers who need their coffee just to keepfrom killing themselves or the people around them. I’m still a ghost in line. A quiet, unrelenting spirit haunting the coffee shop where she works.

Finally, I’m in the front of the line. But her coworker waits on me.

“A large coffee, black.”

She looks at me as if I’m a maniac for waiting in line for something I could easily prepare at home, but the coffee isn’t what I’m here for. Where is Mariah? She ran into the back a few minutes ago, but I figured she’d be at the counter by now.

I pay the woman and turn to leave, but I didn’t wait in line for forty-five minutes to drive home without speaking to her. I wait until her coworker busies herself with the next person in line, and then I slip behind the counter.

Sneaking into the back is easy enough. I should have just done this in the first place. I find her bent over a box, digging through an assortment of cups inside. One tumbles over the side, rolls toward me, and hits my foot. I pick it up and hold it toward her.

“It’s a venti,” I say. A play on my username in the chat.

Mariah drops the cups in her hands and freezes. She doesn’t get up or move. She just stays squatted down in front of the box, as if refusing to acknowledge me means I’ll go away.

I’m not going anywhere.

“Can we talk?” I ask.

She wipes a tear from her cheek and stands up. She doesn’t look at me as she scoops the cups from the floor and tries to walk past me. I grab her arm.

“I need to bring these up front. They’re waiting for me.” She rips away from me.

“I’m not letting you leave until we talk.”

“Get the fuck out of my way, Del, or I’ll?—”

“You’ll what?”

A frustrated breath blows her hair away from her forehead.

“Mariah, where are the cups?” her coworker yells from the front. “The crowd’s getting impatient!”

“I have to go, Del,” she says, her eyes narrowing on mine.

I put my arm out to keep her from moving away. “Give me five fucking minutes, Mariah. Please.”

“You have two minutes.”

I’ll take it.

“I’m sorry I hid who I was, but what we had was real.Isreal. No matter who was beneath the mask, me or your nightmare, that man would do absolutely anything to be with you.”

She swallows. “You lied to me. You’re the one who ran off from the shoot like I disgusted you. Why do all this to be with someone you couldn’t stand to be around a second longer than you had to?”

“I had to leave because I couldn’t handle knowing that once I left, I’d never see you again. I thought it would be better to sever it that way than to say a goodbye that would break me. I’m sorry for running away like that.” I brush her hair away from her flushed cheeks. “But I’m not sorry for everything that happened after that. Part of it was a selfish need to see you again, but I also had to keep you safe from your stalker.”

“Stalkers,” she clips. “Plural.”

“You don’t know what he’s capable of. He’s out to hurt you. I only wanted to be near you.”

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