As he leans down to give me a hug, I capture a waft of his fruity cologne—smelling hints of vanilla. My heart rate quickens and my pulse feels like it’s jolting out of my neck.
“Fancy it,” I say as I reluctantly break apart from our embrace to look up at him.
He has the most gorgeous, curious, deep brown eyes I’ve ever seen.
I notice them trail down my attire, and my stomach does flips again. I know I look different dressed up like this. It’s a far cry from my vacation outfits he saw me in when I was in Seattle.
“You look good.” He smiles as I sit back down.
Naturally, I think he’s going to pull out a chair and sit opposite me. But he doesn’t.
He slides into the booth and sits down next to me.
A thrill runs through me again at our proximity.
“You do, too,” I tell him.
He grins, running his hand through his hair, briefly looking around the cafe.
“This is nice,” he says.
It’s a cute bohemian-style cafe, dimly lit with a cozy reading corner and a long seated area over the counter with cake cabinets on either side.
“Would you like a coffee?” I ask him.
“I ordered one when I first walked in.”
Shit. I didn’t even see him.
He smiles as he looks at me. It’s as though he can read what I’m thinking.
“It’s great to see you,” I gush. “Thanks for coming all this way.”
“It’s nothing.” He shakes it off.
“How are your Mom and Sister?”
“They’re great,” he says. “They were happy to see me. It’s been a few months. I’ll head back there after the weekend.”
My stomach flips again to think he’s staying for the entire weekend, which is a given, really, but it still makes me feel excited.
“That’s awesome,” I say. “Family time is so important.”
“That it is.” He studies me for a moment. Not one bit concerned; we’re side by side, and he has to keep turning his head to look at me. “You look good with your hair up like that.”
I think I feel myself flushing again. Why the hell do I keep doing that?
He makes me feel giddy.
“Thanks,” I manage, even though my mouth suddenly feels dry. I take a sip of coffee, hoping it might help. “I know I probably look different from when you saw me last.”
He laughs, nodding his head. “Yeah, a damn sight different than when you were wearing my jersey.”
I squeeze my thighs together. I’ve had visions of me wearing that again. It’s a very tantalizing thought. “Did you like that look on me?”
The corners of his mouth turn up, and I can tell by the look on his face that he did.
“I liked it a little too much,” he says, his voice low.
