Page 5 of Secret Admirer

“Honestly,” Coco lets out a heavy sigh, “I haven’t really thought about it. It makes sense and would save me a lot of time and hassle.”

Sitting here off to the side isn’t enough, but I can’t go and stand in front of the shop just so I can see her while I listen to their conversation.

Why am I so drawn to her?

Everything about my Goddess kick starts what I thought was my cold dead heart. Unexplainably, she makes me happy in ways I haven’t been in a long time, if ever, and yet the longing to be by her side is crippling. Again, why Coco? I’ve seen plenty of beautiful women during my lifetime and yet her beauty breaks through the dark cloud that’s been hanging over my life for the last few years.

4

Coco

“Why don’tyou at least go grab yourself a coffee?” Trixie strides over to her purse and pulls out a twenty. “Get me something while you’re at it.”

Narrowing my eyes at her, I shake my head. “You don’t need to give me money for coffee.”

She smirks at me as she twists one pink lock of hair. “Shoo. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Why hadn’t I thought of stopping to get coffee on my way in? Probably because I was simply too tired to even think. I was on autopilot. Grabbing my purse, I flip her off while laughing as she glares at me. She knows I don’t mean anything by it. From the moment we met, we clicked and became instant best friends. We’re like long-lost sisters.

Taking a right, I almost trip over a guy sitting outside our shop. His long, tan, and incredibly muscular legs are bent up to his chest while his long scraggly dark blond head rests on top. Long lashes fan out against bearded cheeks as he sleeps. Full pink kissable lips peek out from all his facial hair.

What would it be like to kiss those lips?

Am I that desperate that I’m now thinking of kissing the homeless guy sitting outside the shop?

Perhaps.

From what I can see, he’s hot. Even for a homeless guy.

I’ve never seen him around before. He looks young. Much too young to be living out on the streets. Although I know there’s no such thing. Kids run away from home and live on the street as early as ten years old. Maybe even younger.

One eye slowly blinks open and then widens in alarm. Jumping up, he stumbles back into the wall.

“I’m so sorry if I disturbed you. I can…I’ll go.”

His deep voice is hypnotic. I don’t register what he’s said until he starts to walk away.

“Wait,” I call out, “you don’t have to go. It’s a free country and all. You can sit where you want to sit. I…” He turns, blue irises the color of the Caribbean stare wide-eyed back at me. His deeply tanned face makes the color of his eyes stand out even more. He’s tall too. At least a good half a foot taller than my five-foot-ten-inches.

Shaking myself out of my stupor, I extend my hand out, but he only stares at me as if I’m an alien. “I’m Coco. I work here at Tricks.” I gesture to the windows of the salon. “If you ever need water to fill up your water bottle come inside. We have a water cooler.” I gesture to the water bottle and backpack he left on the sidewalk.

When he only blinks back at me, I’m unsure what to do. Normally, I wouldn’t pay him any mind, but something compelled me to offer our water. It gets hot as hell here and I know there aren’t many places to fill up.

I take a few steps toward him and he shuffles away keeping his intense gaze on me. “Um…have a good day.” I wave and head off to Starbucks. The entire way I can’t get my encounter with the homeless man out of my head.

Could I have been any more stupid?Have a good day?He was sleeping out on the sidewalk while I’m going to spend twenty bucks on coffee. I feel like a spoiled brat. Iama spoiled brat. My parents gave me everything my heart desired and then some. I don’t know what it’s like to do without or to have to sleep outside.

With my shoulders slumped, I trudge to the counter and order myself a venti double shot on ice and Trixie a mocha Frappuccino. I scroll through social media while I wait for my order and only once my name is called do I realize I’ve paid no attention to my surroundings. If someone is watching me, I need to be more aware.

Internally I scold myself as I walk back to the salon. I don’t want to be one of those stupid people in horror movies who gets killed in the first few minutes because I ran upstairs and had nowhere to go.

I spot the homeless man leaning on the wall of the building that leads out to the parking lot. I bite my bottom lip as I make my way toward him, his eyes locked on me. My fingers twitch, wanting to pick at the hem of my shirt. I’ve ruined quite a few of my favorite shirts from my nervous habit. For some reason, this stranger exhilarates me while at the same time making me anxious.

Stopping only a few steps away from him, I hold out the bag to him. “I didn’t mean to freak you out earlier, so I got you a sandwich.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” he grumbles, brows furrowed as he eyes the bag.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I counter.

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