Page 9 of The Fangirl and the Playboy

I twist the key to unlock the deadbolt, and a small yelp bursts out of me as someone pushes the door open from the other side. Hopping back so the door won’t slam into me, I go completely still as the early bird customer rushes through the opening.

Despite the dark sunglasses––unnecessary since the sun has barely started rising––and the baseball cap pulled down low, I know him instantly. My heart starts to pound, and I silently curse the organ for reacting at all.

“Willow.”

His deep, husky voice brushes lightly over my skin, making me shiver. Every muscle in my body stiffens, and I force a smile to my lips before turning to walk back behind the counter. I take a few deep breaths as I go, and when the barrier is safely between us, I swallow thickly and smile again.

“Welcome to Moonstone Mystic. What can I get for you?”

It’s safer to pretend I don’t know him. That we don’t share a history, and he’s just another tourist.

Gavin takes off his sunglasses as he approaches. He stares at me and my stony smile for several long beats before a quiet sigh slips through his lips.

“I’ll take a mocha latte with an extra shot of espresso, please,” he says, and I nod and ring up the order before spinning away to grab a paper cup.

Yep. Not even going to ask him if he’s staying and wants a real mug. The quicker I can get him out of here, the better.

“How have you been?” he asks after a few tense moments.

I don’t even make eye contact, giving him no indication that I heard the question. I can’t do this. Not with him. Not today.

I finish making the drink, then set it on the counter. “That will be four-twenty-five.”

Gavin hands over his credit card, but when I pinch the corner and pull, he doesn’t release it. My gaze snaps up to his, and I hate the longing I see there.

“Willow, please.”

Releasing the card with a grunt, I cross my arms over my chest. “What do you want from me, Gavin?”

His dark eyes flick back and forth as he searches mine, then he sighs and slides his card across the counter. “I don’t know.”

Gritting my teeth, I slide his card through the reader before setting it back on the counter and sliding it back toward him. “Do you want a receipt?”

“No, thank you.”

I nod, and without another word, turn to walk away. His hand shoots over the counter, gripping my elbow lightly. Sparks shoot up my arm and through my chest, and I look back at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry,” he mutters, releasing me instantly. “But…can we just…start over?”

I silently curse the sting in my eyes as we stare at each other for a long moment. I swallow to relieve the hollow feeling in my gut, then shake my head slowly.

“I don’t think so, Gavin.”

“Oh, my God. It’s Gavin Reese!”

The shout startles us both, and we spin in unison toward the door as two unfamiliar women stride through it and hurry toward Gavin. As they gush and ask for pictures, his expression changes. His lips lift into a sexy smile, and my breath hitches in my chest at the sight of it.

My morning barista hurries past the little group with an apologetic smile as he strides behind the counter and ties on an apron. Giving him a nod, I turn and rush into the back. My cook, Chuck, gives me a worried look as I hurry past him to my office, but I just wave off his concern before slipping inside and closing the door firmly behind me.

Leaning back, I take a few deep breaths as pain blooms in my right temple.Fuck.

How does Gavin Reese still have this effect on me? It’s been a decade since I’ve talked to him, and I’m a grown woman now, not some lovestruck, gullible teenager.

I heave a sigh and dig my fingertips into my temples, slowly massaging. I need to get a grip.

He’s just a man from my past. A first love who didn’t return the sentiment. I’ve had ten years to get over that heartache. And Idid.

My head knows I did, but somehow, my heart forgot the moment I laid eyes on him again.

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