Page 3 of Room 4 Rent

Then, like a knight and shining coffee god, a man towers behind me, his body warm as he clears his throat. “Ma’am, I’ll get that for you.”

I stare at the cashier whose face is now red, her eyes on the man. “That’s… uh, like,sosweet of you, Cason.”

Clearly he and the barista girl have a thing because I can tell by the glossy eyes she’s affected by him. And the like, uh, words she used. I know, I’m kind of a bitch. You don’t need to tell me that, and I also don’t need this dude buying my coffee. “You don’t—” I turn to face the man, ready to tell him he doesn’t have to, and regret it. Damn it, now I’m the one stumbling over how to form words.

Don’t worry. I’m not going to go all standard romance novel on you and tell you he’s the hottest guy I’ve ever seen or that my panties are wet with one look. I’m twenty-eight, married, and a mother. I have some self-control. But… I will tell you that one of those two I noted is correct.

A lady never tells.

I will tell you this—dark scruff, intense jawline, blue eyes, you get the point. Bad news, also, good time. Sadly, I could probably be his mother. I’m joking. I’m not that old, but too old to be staring at him or letting him buy me coffee. Hell, it’s probably his mom’s money. I reach for the twenty he tosses on the counter. He slides around me to the barista. “I insist.” And then his voice trails off as if he’s not sure what else to say. “Add a tall Americano onto that order, please.”

Goddamn, I love a man who takes charge of a situation.“You don’t have to do that,” I’m quick to say and pick up his money from the counter and hand it to him, our fingers brushing in the passing.

He runs a hand through his dark hair, smiling at me, and damn it if my body doesn’t melt under the intensity of his blue eyes. “Well—” Pausing, he sighs heavily, his voice incredibly sincere when he whispers, “I wasn’t asking.” I watch with rapt attention as his throat moves with a swallow, his hand resting on the counter beside me, and he’s so far in my personal space, I can smell his cologne or deodorant. Whatever it is, it smells amazing, and I want to bury my face in his armpits.

I’m happily married, I swear, but my body melts under the passion of his blue eyes.

He reaches for the drink on the counter and my bagel. “Enjoy.”

Staring at his ASU hat, which confirms my theory that he’s in college, maybe even plays a sport there, I roll my teeth over my bottom lip. “Uh, thanks.” Reaching for the drink, I hold it in my hand. “That’s nice of you.”

As I step to the side and out of the way, he takes his drink from the counter. His eyes flick to my wedding ring, and if I had to guess—or hope—there’s a flick of disappointment. “Have a nice day, ma’am.”

Ma’am? Snort.

We walk out at the same time, neither of us saying anything. He holds the door open for me and then offers a final smile, standing under the protection of the awning outside. But that smile, it’s one of those smiles that warm your heart. I’m not sure I’ve seen Collin smile like that since college.

There’s another kid with him. Same ASU hat and holding a cell phone in his hand, leaned against a car parked on the street in front of the coffee shop.

I clear my throat and return the smile the best I can. In the meantime, I drop the bag with my bagel. “I swear, I’m not always this much of a mess.” And then laugh as he picks up the bag and hands it to me. “That’s a lie. I am.”

He adjusts his ASU hat on his head and then drops his hands. It’s then I notice his shirt. Sun Devils. ASU. Judging by his appearance, I’d say he’s a baseball player. Having a dad who used to coach college baseball, I know my baseball teams and can pick a baseball player out of any lineup. “Ah, well, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

Righting my bag on my shoulder, my cheeks heat with the slightest pink. I have no idea why either. Maybe because he’s staring at me, or the fact that a kid bought my coffee because I couldn’t. “And that is?”

Leaning in, he gives me another whiff of that delicious scent he’s wearing. “Having it all together is overrated.” He squints at the rain pelting our faces. “Some of the most brilliant minds in the world are a shitshow.”

“I’m a genius then.” I laugh, my focus on my van and the fact that I’m twenty minutes late to open my shop. “I have to go.” I nod to the parking lot. “But thanks again… for helping me out.” I want to ask him for his phone number to repay him, but I’m pretty sure if I do, he’s going to think I’m hitting on him. So I say, “Next time I’ll buy,” and hope like hell that doesn’t sound idiotic. To be safe, I repeat it in my head again. Did it sound stupid?

I’m thinking not by the expression on his face. It’s somewhere between what I imagine a college kid would make hoping to score with a MILF. I’m not saying I’m a MILF, but if I were… oh, who gives a fuck. He looks fucking happy, okay? Good. We’re clear that he wants there to be a second buying of coffee.

“Anytime, Sydney,” he says, my name rolling off his tongue with ease and swagger. He’s confident, that’s for sure. And then he winks, as if his college boy charm would work on me.

Spoiler alert: it does. Sadly.

“Interesting drink choice,” he notes, trying to extend the conversation, I assume.

My eyes land on the drink in my hand. “I like my cream with coffee,” I note and then regret it.Fuck, why’d I say that?The cream on top has been slowly mixing with the rest of the drink. I glance at it, tipping the cup. If you know, you know. I’m just going to come out and say it.

But for those of you who are scratching your heads about now and thinking what the fuck is she talking about, I’ll clear it up. When you mix cream with coffee in a clear cup, it reminds me of that scene inAmerican Piewhen the dude comes in the beer.

I shrug and tip my cup towards his. “And yours is kind of boring,” I tell him, with no amount of shame.

His eyes soften in the most adorable way. You can literally see the sincerity in him. He’s a nice guy. Obviously, he bought my coffee. “I’m not overly adventurous.”

“So buying me coffee is the highlight of your week?”

“Try month.” He leans in, winking. “Maybe year.”

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