Page 21 of Sorry, We're Closed

I want to feel his build, feel his – what I imagine would be – delicate skin under my fingertips, to caress and kiss every part of him. This guy has me wrapped around his dainty fingers, and I don’t mind it.

“You know what this means, Marc?”

I throw the now disintegrating ball into the bin as I drop my legs under the table and sit up, an ache running down my spine from leaning on the chair handles for too long.

Marcus wiggles his eyebrows at me as he speaks. “We need to start playing our new shit?”

“Hell yeah, we do! I need to start making use of that recording room.” A thought flashes to the front of my mind.

“You know, you could also make use of those spindly legs of yours, and go get us some coffee?” Marcus winks at me in the most exaggerated way possible.

“Fine, but I’m going to stay there and do some gig planning first.”

I’ve got a plan, and I hope this works. I really hope this works.

How does that bell never annoy Sawyer? The ringing echoes throughout my ears as the front door slowly shuts itself. The bell is suddenly the last thing on my mind, though, as I see him.

He’s leaning on the counter and talking to a blonde woman with stunning features and a pastel dress sense, her toned stomach on show – we look nothing alike as I hide every bare patch of myself away.

Standing on the opposite sides of the café, my mind is buzzing to know if this is even a good idea. I hardly know this guy; I don’t even know if this closed book of a man can be opened or if this is just him.

I fix my feet and my mind to the here and now, I never have to do that. A boy has never gotten me so riled up with myself before. I just don’t want to mess this up and lose these chances to just admire him.

He really does know what looks good on him; an olive jumper hangs on his shoulders with two white stripes hugging around his waist, a white button up underneath. All of this tucks into a pair of dark grey denim shorts with an array of mushrooms sprouting from the rolls of denim at the bottom of the shorts, like it’s their very own soil.

When he turns around, these shorts are no longer cute but fitting, and they are dangerous in the way they hug him tightly, displaying that bubble butt off to the world. I’m surprised he can even fit all of him into those shorts.

“Hey, you can go ahead and order! I’m just nattering his ear off like usual!” The woman whips her hair around and waves me over, a smile which displays her pearl like teeth.

So, they do know each other. Sawyer buries his face into his hands as the woman begins giggling to herself. I start to feel like I’m walking in on a joke I won’t understand.

“Sawyer, honey, I’m off, but I’ll see you later this week with your delivery.”

Sawyer peels a hand off of his face and waves goodbye to the woman. She stops in her stride and stands in front of me.

“I’m Gwen, sorry for holding him up, Avory.”

Wait, how does she know my name? Has Sawyer been speaking about me? My heart feels like skipping a beat at the thought of Sawyer speaking about me to this woman who clearly means a lot to him. Maybe he just speaks about all of his customers?

“Not a problem at all, Gwen. Take it easy!”

She nods to me with that same smile and winks at Sawyer as she strolls away. I approach the counter as Sawyer brings himself up to his full height again, a rose colour spreading over his cheeks.

“Hey Avory, what can I get you?” A flustered expression spreads across his face as he begins fiddling with the sleeve of his jumper.

I’ve never seen this side of him, did Gwen say something to him?

“Hey, Sawyer. Just my drink to sit in, and Marcus’ to take out, please. I’ve got some planning to do so I’m going to hang about for a bit.”

His eyes flutter as if with confusion, and I never realised that even eyelashes can be pretty. They are long and curl at the end, and I want to see them closer. I want my hands to cup his face and to count every freckle and every eyelash and admire every miniature detail about him.

He hums in agreement as he turns around and begins crafting our drinks, swaying his hips from side to side as he leans to grab every different component of my order. God, I could watch him in those goddamn shorts all day long, I hope my drink never gets made.

“Here you go Avory, take a seat wherever you like! We do shut in an hour though.”

There it is. While small, it’s a smile, nonetheless. His lips look full with a natural tint of pink to them, shallow dimples appearing on either side of his face. I am right – hedoeshave a pretty smile. A beautiful smile which I find myself wishing to feel against my lips.

Oh my god, I need to stop.

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