Page 21 of Second Chance with Seth
Chapter Five
Everly
I follow Seth, trying desperately to ignore the way his jeans fit so perfectly to his thighs, although it’s not that easy… not when he’s here, right in front of me, after all this time.
My stomach’s turning somersaults, and as for my heart… it doesn’t know what to do.
Neither do I, so I let my eyes wander upward, over his muscular back, hidden beneath his leather jacket. I’ve always liked this jacket. It suits him, and I feel myself blush, remembering the way I used to let my hands roam inside it across his chest.
It brings back so many memories…
“Is this table twelve?” he asks, stopping at exactly the right place, and I nod my head, grateful that he carried the coffees, because my hands are shaking. So are my knees, and I sit before he does, just in case I fall.
What is he doing here?
And why now?
And how can he make me want him just with a look of his deep blue eyes?
He sits opposite, leaning back in his seat and tilting his head to one side, while I make a conscious effort not to let my eyes wander. Even that doesn’t help very much, though. His face is just as perfect as ever… his hair slightly unkempt, his stubble atjust the right length to make it prickle against my skin. Not that I’m touching him. But I’d like to, while his lips grazed mine.
I cough, needing to focus, or calm myself. I can’t be sure which, and I watch as he picks up his cup from the table, taking a sip before he puts it down again and nods over my shoulder toward the counter.
“Who’s the heartthrob?” he asks, his question surprising me… and making my blood boil.
So much for stubble, and prickles, and lips. Who the hell does he think he is?
How dare he question me when he’s only just walked in the door… when he’s been gone for a year… when he was the one who walked out on me?
“His name’s Owen,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.
“I know. I heard you say his name.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“Because I want to know who he is.”
“He works here.”
“I got that. The apron kinda gave it away. What I really want to know is, are you and he…?”
He leaves his sentence hanging, although he doesn’t need to finish it. I know exactly what he means and I push my cup aside and lean forward, so I can whisper, “It’s none of your damn business, Seth. You left, remember? I haven’t heard from you since, and that means you don’t have the right to come marching back into my coffee shop and start questioning me about what I’m doing with my life.”
“I didn’t march anywhere,” he says, pushing his own cup to one side, and leaning closer.
“Maybe not, but after a year of silence, you can’t come back here and ask what I’m doing, or who I’m doing it with.”
What’s wrong with me? Why am I defending myself like this? Okay, so Seth doesn’t have the right to ask, but it’s not asthough there’s anything going on between Owen and me… or that there ever would be.
He holds up his hands, leaning back again and shaking his head. “Okay,” he says. “I’m sorry. I got it wrong.”
“Yes, you did. What I do now is my business, Seth, and you can’t…”
“No, you don’t understand.” His interruption takes me by surprise and I frown at him.
“What don’t I understand?”
“I didn’t mean I was wrong to question you. I meant I was wrong to leave you.”
