“And here I thought I’d have to track you down.” A familiar male voice said behind me.
I spun around. It was Chris.
“Hi,” I said, briefly trying to remember if I’d had a chance to glance in the mirror before I ran out. It wasn’t likely.
He smiled at me for a moment before walking around me to pour his own cup. I immediately felt silly for just standing there. I cleared my throat, reached for a lid, and stepped aside.
“Are you heading somewhere?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Just grabbing some coffee. We were all out, so I ran out for some.” Ugh. I hate the way I get repetitive when I’m nervous.
“Well, my luck that you ran out of coffee,” he said with another great smile. He turned to the brunette cashier and handed her a bill.
“Two coffees, please.”
She looked up from her magazine and did a double take at Chris. I noticed he politely smiled back then turned to me. He motioned toward a small row of tables lined up against the large, framed wooden windows. The red-oak table and chairs fit well in the space. And the fact that each table was specifically made to fit two was a nice touch and convenient for keeping the small café clear of larger groups, I imagined. The seating was clearly intended for quick coffee and muffin for two. For someone who appreciated a quieter atmosphere, I made a note to self to come back here when I needed a quiet moment indoors with a good cup of hot coffee.
“Let’s sit,” he said flatly.
Suddenly, something Rick said the night before crept its way into my head just as Chris insisted we sit. He hadn’t bothered to ask me if I would like to sit with him or even stay for a few minutes. Common courtesy, I should think. I forced the thoughts out of my head, clearly reading too much into it. I needed to stop letting Rick’s opinions affect me. So what if Chris used my dad’s business tactics of eliminating the question and reducing the rate of people saying no. It worked, didn’t it?
Since he let me lead the way, I chose to sit at the last table in the back corner. I sat with my back to the wall. He sat and faced me. His eyes were glued to me, but I could tell there was a question there.
“Where is Rachel this morning?”
Rachel? He was asking me about my roommate? He must have missed her tongue down his friend’s throat last night.
“I have to thank her for dragging you out last night,” he added.
I smiled shyly. “Sleeping. But I will give her the message.” Flirting was easy.
“Sorry I had to run last night. Misha apparently got her drinking rules mixed up. You don’t chug two bottles of beer and then follow it with four rounds of shots.
My stomach churned just thinking about it. Been there. “Well, lucky she had you there to get her home safely.”
“She’s lucky she’s got John looking out for her.” He played with the tab of his coffee lid. “What about you?” He looked up at me. “Got anyone back in Colorado looking out for you?”
“Well if I do, he’s certainly doing a terrible job,” I joked, and Chris laughed. I honestly didn’t know how to answer his question any other way. Why would I have needed someone looking out for me? Since when is having a boyfriend equivalent to an older sibling?
“No boyfriend then.”
“No. Not since the fall. Wasn’t a long-term thing anyway.”
Chris smiled shyly. “Sorry, I don’t know why I asked. I guess I already assumed that you weren’t involved.”
That was an odd thing to assume.
“What gave me away as single and available?”
For the first time since I’d met Chris, he looked uncertain about what he was about to say. “I was under the impression you were…running from a breakup.” He shrugged.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Well it’s not that you gave any implication that you were,” he said quickly. “It’s just…why else would you be here? In a city that doesn’t really have much but a beach unknown to the rest of the world and anokaysummer camp. The only thing that makes sense is if you were running from something. Or trying to forget about someone by involving yourself in new surroundings.”
I supposed I couldn’t blame him for assuming that. After all, making rash and extreme decisions like mine was the most understood psychological action following a breakup.
“I’m not running from anything,” I said with no hesitation, hoping to get the message across. “I just needed to get away from the summer crowd in Denver.”
