Page 7 of Please Don't Leave Me

I can't help but mother them, so I put a fresh glass of water by each of them, along with a couple pills for when they wake up with headaches tomorrow morning. I've always been the mom of the friend group, especially in college.

Don't get me wrong, I definitely had fun too. But Jay was always so particular about how much I was allowed to drink because he said he didn't want to be embarrassed by me. So, by the end of a night out, I was usually sober enough to take care of everyone.

I walk back to my room and crawl under the sheets. Pepin jumps on the bed and curls up next to me. I always keep it colder in my room so I can snuggle Pep and sleep with a weighted blanket without burning up.

The pressure from the weighted blanket and Pepin pressed up against my side is comforting. After sharing a bed with Jay for the last two years, those first few nights after he left were terribly lonely. My legs were restless, and I felt so cold. I went out and bought this weighted blanket the next day. It helps, but Pepin helps the most. He’s so attentive and knows exactly when I need a little extra love.

I roll onto my side to face him and stretch my arm out to scratch behind his ear. He lets out a little huff andnuzzles his head into my chest. "Guess you were trying to warn me about that guy, weren't you, buddy?" He lets out another little grunt in confirmation. "Alright, next time, I'll listen. But if you do that to every guy who walks through this door, I'll start to get suspicious."

I smile at my own joke and kiss his big, soft head. "Goodnight, Pepin. I love you." He wiggles a little closer into my body to say he loves me too. I truly will never understand how anyone could give this sweet boy up.

Chapter Four

LOUISA

I wake up the next morning before B and Iris—no shocker there—so I run to grab some coffee and bagels for the three of us. The coffee shop is just around the corner, so I throw on some joggers and a hoodie to go over my nightshirt. My hair is thrown up in a messy bun on top of my head, and I still have my glasses on.

Needless to say, this was not how I'd want to look if I ran into a super hot, well-dressed British guy with meticulously twisted hair and light brown skin. But the universe had other plans for Louisa Blake this morning.

I don't even notice him at first because I'm scrolling on my phone. The line is long and snakes back and forth through the ropes leading to the register. He's several people ahead of me in line but right across the barrier to my left.

"Grumpy old bear?"

I look up, not knowing what's going on. I look over and lock eyes with this gorgeous man who was clearly talking to me. I'm confused. "Excuse me?"

He looks down, nodding his chin toward my chest. "Your jumper."

"Oh, yeah," I say, looking down at B's sweatshirt, which I just grabbed off the chair by the door on my way out of the apartment. It has an image of a bear smoking a pipe on it; his face is scrunched in a way that definitely makes it look grumpy. The text surrounding his head says 'Grumpy Old Bear' in bold letters. "It's my sister's. She has very...unique taste in clothing."

He chuckles and says, "Well, I think it's funny, and it looks good on you, so you should keep it."

I try to tone down the grin that tries to take over my entire face, straining my cheeks till they hurt. "Thanks, maybe I will."

He reaches out a hand to introduce himself. "Matt."

See, peopledoshake hands! "Louisa. But you can call me Lou."

"Looking forward to it." His smile is so soft and confident it makes my heart melt.

What does he mean by that? I don't think about it too long because I'm distracted by the feel of his hand in mine. His hands are so strong and so gentle at the same time. The skin of his palm is soft like butter, and I suddenly get self-conscious about my man hands, which are probably rough in comparison. Butterflies start to erupt in my stomach, and my body heats up.

The line starts to move again, separating us further and forcing us to let go. With the way the line is formed, we won't get another chance to pass by before he gets to the front to order.

My mind starts racing, and I try to process what just happened. Did I just hit it off with someone in a coffee line? And not just someone. A very attractive manwho looks like he has his life together. Of course, this is just speculation since the only thing I know about this man is that his name is Mark. Wait, no. Was it Matt? Shit, I was too distracted that I didn't process what he said his name was.

It's his turn to order, and I can hear his sweet honey voice talking to the barista, but I can't make out what he's saying. I close my eyes, and an image pops in my head of him pressing me up against a wall and talking sweet nothings to me with that voice. It has my vagina fluttering.

When I come back to reality and open my eyes, I realize the line in front of me has moved significantly, and I rush forward to fill in the gap. When I look over at the register, I see that he's no longer there. Looking down the counter to the pick-up station, I see him waiting there and talking to someone. I can't see who it is because they're hidden behind the espresso machine. Probably some well-dressed, hot blonde who doesn't look like they just rolled out of bed.

It's my turn to order next, so I step forward, and despite my best efforts, I can no longer see either of them. Damnit.

"Welcome to Mad Hatter’s. What can we make for you today?"

I turn to the young girl at the register and order what I know to be B and Iris's go-to orders, a cafe miel for me, and a variety of bagels with cream cheese.

I finish ordering and wait for her to say the total. Instead, she takes my name and directs me toward the end of the counter where I can wait for my order.

"Sorry, I didn't pay yet. I must have missed the prompt on the screen." Digging into my purse, I fish out my credit card and hold it up to the card reader.

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