Atone (The Disciples 2)

“So nice to meet you, Charlize.” He smiles back and I’m blinded with his ridiculously white teeth. “You’re even more lovely than your mother said.” He gives my mom’s ass a slap.

Oh God. I stare, mortified as my mom slaps his chest.

“It’s true. You’re her mother.” He leans down and rubs his nose on hers. She giggles annnd I can’t stand him.

Nodding at them I say, “I’m going to try to do the schedule for next week.”

“Okay, honey. We’re going to take off.”

God, please don’t make this guy stick around. I turn to head to the office except Cindy is staring, transfixed, watching the man in the Sixteen Candles booth eat his meal.

“Cindy,” I hiss, causing her to jump. “Are you kidding me?” My eyes widen, and I give her the pull-your-shit-together look.

She snorts. “Sorry.” Holding up her hands, she says, “Come on, look at him.”

She points at the guy. I pull her hand down. It’s like dealing with a child.

“Please stop pointing at the poor man and do your job.” I turn to leave her but something stops me. The sensation of butterflies in my stomach makes me look at the guy. And I freeze, maybe even stop breathing… It can’t be!

“Charlize?” Cindy’s annoying voice sounds way too close, so I lift my hand to shut her up. Goose bumps make the hair on my arms stand up. It’s impossible to tear my gaze away. This is the man I have dreamed about, grieved about. Shit, I’ve had major guilt for years about this guy.

“Cindy?” My voice sounds hoarse. “I’ll take care of him. You go fold napkins and clean the menus.”

“Charlize,” she whines so loud it breaks my stare and I turn to her.

“Listen. That guy”—I point at him, causing her to raise an eyebrow—“is not who you think he is. I need to handle this.”

She glares at me like I took her favorite toy away. At this point, I don’t care. I’m almost numb with all kinds of emotions. The first being joy.

Jesus Christ he’s sitting in my diner eating steak and eggs and drinking coffee. My eyes greedily take in his appearance. He’s in a starched white dress shirt and black suit pants. I should question if it’s truly him, but I don’t. I know it’s David. His hair is way shorter and he’s filled out, but the way he moves and that gorgeous face can only be his.

“Did you fuck him or something?” she whispers, not even hiding her excitement.

I almost laugh. One, because fucking him is all I’ve dreamed about. And two, I forgot she was still there.

“It’s none of your business,” I snip as I pull the white bar towel out of my back pocket and set it on the Midnight Run table. I should go to the restroom and see what I look like. But I can’t seem to stop myself from moving toward him. The closer I get, the more I wish I had worn something besides tight gray jeans and a black tank top. My hair is a wild mess. What the hell am I doing? He’s clearly in his own world; his energy is anything but friendly. He doesn’t even have his phone out to keep him company. Right as I’m about to turn, his eyes find mine. I freeze as I stare, trapped in a pool of silver beauty. He doesn’t look surprised. He doesn’t look like anything that I can understand. He reaches for his cup of coffee. I watch his strong, tan hands grip the cup as he brings it to his full lips.

A whoosh of air hisses out of my lips as I lick them. Then he leans back, draping his other arm over the back of the booth as he holds me hostage with his presence.

This is ridiculous. I have been waiting for the chance to say I’m sorry for his loss, sorry for all that has happened to him… just sorry. I force myself to move toward him, my eyes darting around. I’m in luck and the only people in this section are an older couple and they’re ready to pay.

“Hey David.” I stop at the end of the table and make sure my shoulders are back. His eyes narrow and I watch almost trancelike as he swallows. God, the way the muscles in his neck move.

He sets down his cup, causing me to blink back to reality as he starts to cut his steak. I look down at his plate, horrified. He’s not even going to acknowledge my presence? I take a breath. It’s been eating away at me for years and I need to say this. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about him… and the tragedy.

“So… it’s been years, but I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”