Page 9 of With Us

I added a couple boxes of cereal to my half full cart.

If she sees me here, at least I have a reasonable excuse, suspicious as it may be. There’s no way I can convince her I happen to be at a dive bar frequented mainly by college kids.

“Not tonight,” Dahlia said. My relief was cut short when she added, “I’ve got a date.”

Her going to a bar was enough to put me on edge, but hearing her say she had a date had me white knuckle gripping the cart as I planned my next move.

The girl’s tone was a mix of excited and surprised as she asked, “With who?”

Yeah, with fucking who?

Dahlia gave a little laugh. “My bed. And I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”

They started toward the back, the squeaking cart drowning out their conversation and signaling the end of my stalking.

It was fine since my mind was already planning.

Chapter Two

A Date with Bougie Baguettes

Dahlia

He’s back.

I wasn’t a total moron. There were at least four other coffee shops within a one block radius, one of which was the best I’d ever had. Our coffee was decent, at best. The baked goods were out of this world, but I didn’t think that was what had him coming back.

Crossing off the cliché bohemian decor, raspy indie music on a constant loop, and the prone to buffering Wi-Fi, that left one thing.

Me.

After he’d asked for my name, my heart had decided to travel to my throat to accommodate the butterflies that’d invaded my stomach.

I’d found myself holding my breath, waiting.

But he’d been called away, leaving my imagination to run wild for two days straight.

“Usual?” I asked as he approached the counter.

“Please.”

After fixing his coffee, I turned back and handed it to him. “No Luc today?”

“No.” His sharp eyes narrowed slightly. “Why do you ask?”

Smiling, I gestured to the nearly empty bakery case. “I don’t think we have enough left for him.”

The man chuckled. “He sent me with a long list of requests, so he’ll be disappointed.”

“What would he like?”

Bringing his hand to his chin, he rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip.

Like before, I held my breath, not wanting him to stop. Actually, I wanted to bite his lip. Maybe have him stroke mine in a similar way.

Of course if he did that, I wouldn’t be able to see the way the veins in his strong hand shifted with each movement.

It’s official; I’ve lost my mind. My hormones have taken my brain hostage.

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