Love at The Bluebird

Gavin: Good morning, darlin’! This is your friendly wake-up call to remind you that you agreed to meet me for breakfast at Star Bagel this morning at eight. See you soon!

Cereal and milk starts spewing from my mouth as I choke. When did I agree to meet him for breakfast? As soon as I ask myself that I vaguely recall the shrill ringing of my phone in the middle of the night. That wasn’t a dream?

Shit!

I push back from the table and quickly pour the remainder of my cereal and coffee into the drain of the sink. I shower within five minutes, quickly apply lotion to my body, put on my bra and panties, and then blow dry my hair. I run to my closet to pick an outfit and groan. It figures I have nothing to wear, since I haven’t done laundry in over a week. I finally settled on an off-the-shoulder, light-pink mesh sweater with a white tank-top underneath, jeans, and beige-colored peep-toe booties. Once dressed, I apply a little makeup and quickly curl my hair then finalize my look with simple gold jewelry. Knowing it’s not going to get any better than this in the time I have, I text Gavin back to tell him I’m on my way then grab my purse and head out the door.

It takes me ten minutes to get to Star Bagel and another five minutes to find parking. Once my tiny car is parked in a spot a couple blocks away, I reapply my lip gloss one more time then take a deep breath to try to calm my shaky nerves. I get out of the car with two minutes to spare and walk down the block to the bagel shop.

I try to think of what kinds of things we can talk about, but all thoughts suddenly vanish from my brain when I spot him waiting outside for me. He’s wearing a black shirt that clings like saran wrap to his biceps, gray denim jeans that aren’t too tight but fit nicely to his thighs, and stylish black boots. He looks like a professional model leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, and aviator sunglasses covering his eyes, waiting for his picture to be taken. Nerves start making my belly dance, and I take a couple of deep breaths to calm my racing heart.

Calm down, Aly! He’s just a guy you’re having breakfast with.

Yeah… a really hot guy you’d like to eat for breakfast.

I watch him take off his sunglasses and push himself off the wall as soon as he sees me coming, his infectious smile brightening my mood. Within seconds, he’s standing in front of me, and he startles me when he grabs my hands and pulls me closer. With our bodies only mere inches from touching, I tilt my head back to look up at him. Gah, he’s gorgeous, and his green eyes capture my attention. His gaze roams my face, lingering for a moment on my lips before returning to stare into my eyes and what feels like my soul.

“My God, you’re stunning.”

The first words out of his mouth render me speechless for a moment and I blush from his compliment.

“Th-thank you and… good morning,” I stutter out, not prepared for such an intense greeting. I continue smiling on the outside, but on the inside, I’m cringing at how pathetic I feel and sound.

His mouth curves into a wicked smirk, making me forget my stupidity and my knees almost buckle. “Good morning. You ready to go eat? Because I’m starving,” he says while his eyes rake over me, making me question if he’s still referring to food when he looks at me that way. I nod and stifle a groan at the loss of his warm hands around mine. Instead, he places one hand on the small of my back to lead me into the restaurant.

Star Bagel is always busy, so we stand in line to place our order. Once that is done, we take our number and look around for a place to sit. As he leads us to the back of the room, I overhear people whispering his name, pointing at him, and taking out their phones to snap pictures. By the time we find an empty table for us to take, I’m nervous for a completely different reason.

“Is it always like this?” I ask, nodding toward two girls standing outside the window, holding their phones to the glass to get a photo of him.

“Not all the time,” he replies, and I raise a brow, not believing him. “I try to ignore it or pretend they’re admiring some painting on the wall.” He looks up, his eyes focusing on whatever is above my left shoulder, and his lips start to twitch. “The masterpiece that is behind you is priceless. I can see why everyone wants to take a photo of it.”