I’m just not sure that I should get involved in a relationship with only one semester left before graduation. I’ll be gone from this town as soon as I receive my diploma.
On the same token, telling him I’m single isn’t the same thing as shacking up with the man. Man . . . that’s the difference between Troy and Cooper. Troy was a child with too much jealousy coursing through his veins and wasted time on his hands. His troubles were never idle, and I was tired of being dragged into his messes.
Cooper’s here doing schoolwork as though he cares about his future. It’s refreshing. I reply, “I’m not dating anyone.”
He looks down and smiles to himself, but when his eyes find mine again, there’s such an honesty in his confidence. Not arrogance. He’s just sure of who he is. I probably shouldn’t find that trait so attractive.
From what I’ve learned, the brunt of arrogance and confidence are one and the same. So why would Cooper be different?
I used to be more carefree before . . . Give him a chance.
He angles himself toward me in his chair. “I probably shouldn’t ask during finals week since I’m sure you have enough going on in your life, but what do you think about getting together over the holiday break? After the semester wraps up?”
“You don’t even know if I’m a student.”
He scans the room but then comes back to me. “Sure, I do. Everyone here is a student.”
“Lou’s not.”
“Lou comes here because he likes you.” His gaze deviates past my hip in Lou’s direction. “He can’t stand seeing me talk to you.”
My head whips around to see Lou’s eyes bolt back to his screen. When I look at Cooper, he cocks an eyebrow as if his point has been proven while a smug smirk sits firmly on his expression, giving me a sneak peek of the arrogance that proves my point. He sits back and crosses his arms over his chest. “Am I wrong?”
He’s not. Lou comes here for the good coffee and to see me. He’s never mustered the nerve to ask me out, but I know he wants to. “Lou is . . .” I roll my eyes. “It doesn’t matter about him. We’re talking about us.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Tilting my head to the side, I ask, “Of what?”
He leans forward and dips the tip of his finger in the pocket of my apron. Pulling me closer, he then stands and leans to whisper in my ear, “The possibility of us.”
My heart beats quicker as his words race through my veins. The warmth of his breath breezing across my skin has goose bumps rising as if on command.
I lift my chin, causing our cheeks to brush together. “I’m starting to suspect that Zeus’s storm raging outside isn’t the only god messing with the fates today.”
Leaning back, he catches my gaze and stares into my eyes. The smirk has gone and been replaced with a look that causes my breath to catch and lie heavy in my chest. “That only leaves two choices for us, Story. We fight the fates and walk away. Or—”
“We take a chance and follow their lead.” With my heart still pounding, I realize that our fate is already sealed.
Although I’m filled with doubts about stepping into another fire I might not be able to contain, at least his smile is reassuring. “I’ll pick you up on Thursday. Seven o’clock.”
An electrical surge startles me, taking the lights out, and the coffee shop goes dark. The glow of computer screens dims, but collectively, they shine bright enough for everyone to be seen. I catch my breath and rush to the counter. “It’s okay. You can stay until we close or collect your bill if you’re ready to go.”
Cooper sits at the table, watching as others scramble to gather their things. As I weave through the tables to check on everyone, I start hearing how most don’t have cash. We’re in a world of technology and don’t have a way to pay. Go figure.
I start taking IOUs from the regulars, and the others . . . guess it’s an early present for them as they walk out the door.
Since the coffee is already brewed, I guess the rest of the coffee is on me tonight even though the pot is slowly cooling. I know I’ll have to cover the disparity out of my paycheck, but I’d just be throwing it out anyway. Ross, the owner of Bean There Coffee Cafe, accepts no excuses, no matter how valid. And no electricity in a thunderstorm seems like a valid reason to keep the doors open and the customers happy.
I’m sure he’ll see it differently, though.
Screens start to dim over the course of the next hour, and more customers disappear out the front door when I’m in the back cleaning dishes by flashlight. When I return to the front, only one person remains. Cooper’s concentration on the screen is intense. He doesn’t even hear me come in, though my steps echo in the quiet of the room.