Page 4 of The Heartbreakers
“Okay, good,” I said, nodding at his answer. “Are we really doing this? Road trip to Chicago?”
“Yeah,” Drew said. “Road trip to Chicago.”
Chapter 2
I pressed my forehead against the passenger-side window and let my eyes drift over the buildings slipping past me. Drew and I had been driving all night, and thankfully we arrived in Chicago well before the morning rush hour. It was still dark, but a faint purple light on the horizon hinted at the coming sun. Even though it was too early to check in, we were making our way through downtown to find our hotel. Drew wanted a place to park the car and leave our luggage.
I stayed awake during the drive to keep my brother company, and now I was too tired to focus much on anything. If I didn’t get caffeine soon, I would never make it through the day. Just as my eyelids began to flutter closed, a green sign caught my attention. I shot straight up in my seat.
“Drew, stop! It’s a Starbucks!”
He jumped, accidentally jerking the wheel to the left, and the car swerved a foot into the next lane. There wasn’t much traffic to crowd the five o’clock streets, but I could see the alarm on his face.
“Jesus, Stella, you could have gotten us killed,” he said and let out a shaky breath when he successfully pulled our car back into the right lane. “That scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry,” I said as he found a parking spot on the side of the street. “Coffee’s on me. What do you want?”
“Just a regular cup of joe. None of that creamer crap.”
I wrinkled my nose. “That’s disgusting,” I told him as I unbuckled my seat belt.
“That’s how you’re supposed to drink it,” he told me as he settled back into his seat to wait.
Grinning to myself, I climbed out of the car and headed toward the shop. When I stepped inside, a bell rang above me and the smell of freshly brewed coffee greeted me. There was one employee behind the counter, a middle-aged woman with frizzy hair, and she was taking the order of the only other customer in the shop.
As I waited for my turn, I studied the boy in front of me. He was tall and lean and must have been around my age, but I couldn’t get a good look at his face. Light-brown, wavy hair poked out from underneath a beanie, and he was wearing a fitted white T-shirt, designer jeans, and a pair of gray Vans: simple but stylish. I couldn’t help but look him up and down a second time. Normally I was into guys with big muscles and facial hair, but something about this boy was interesting. His whole look screamed artsy, and I liked it.
“That will be two ninety-five.” I watched as the boy retrieved a wallet from his pocket, pulled out a five, and handed it over. After giving back his change, the woman said, “I’ll be right back. Gotta grab the soy milk out of the other fridge.”
“That’s chill,” he answered and tucked his money away.
The barista disappeared through an employees-only door, leaving me alone with the boy. As he waited for her to return, he beat his hands against the counter, re-creating the rhythm to a song. I cleared my throat to let him know he wasn’t alone, and he turned, finally noticing I was standing behind him.
He offered me a smile. It was one of those full-face smiles accompanied by an adorable set of dimples, and all I could do was stare like an idiot. Something about him struck me, almost as if I knew him from somewhere, which was ridiculous since we had never met. I touched my camera out of habit, and his smile faltered. Neither of us moved for a moment, but then the boy forced another grin onto his face and waited, like he expected me to say something.
Unable to stand his gaze any longer, I glanced up at the huge chalkboard menu hanging above us. Even though I already knew what I was ordering, I deliberately studied each item. They really should have another employee working. He was still watching me, and I tried my best to ignore him.
“So,” he said, finally ending the silence. “That’s a nice camera. I take it you’re into photography?”
I jumped at the sound of his voice. The boy was leaning back against the counter, his arms crossed casually over his chest. “Um, thanks,” I responded. “It’s an early birthday gift. And yeah, I’m into it.”
“What kind?”
“Portraits are my favorite,” I told him, as I fiddled with my lens cap, popping it off and on. “But I’ll take a picture of just about anything.”
“Why portraits?”
“Have you ever heard of Bianca Bridge?” I could feel a smile growing on my face, and I didn’t wait for the boy to answer. “She’s, like, the best photographer ever, and she does these amazing shots of people from all over the world. I’m actually in Chicago to visit her photo gallery.”
“Hmm,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “Never heard of her.” Pushing away from the counter, he took a step toward me. The dog tag around his neck caught a beam of light from above, and it shimmered back and forth. “Mind if I have a look?” he asked and pointed at my camera.
My fingers tightened around it, and I hesitated. “Umm,” I responded, not knowing what to say. The Starbucks employee trotted back into the room clutching a carton of soy milk, and when I glanced back at the boy, he lifted an eyebrow at me as if to say, “Well?” Slowly, I nodded my head. In any other instance I would have said no, but something about the boy was confident and charming. Plus, I wanted to see that smile again. I lifted the strap from around my neck, and he moved in to take the camera. As he did, his arm brushed against mine, making my skin prickle.
“Like this?” he asked and snapped a close-up of me. I found it hard not to grin. He was holding the camera all wrong and clearly had no idea what he was doing.
“No,” I said, reaching over to help. “You probably have to adjust the focus. Here, I’ll show you.” I put my hand on top of his and demonstrated how to move the lens. The boy looked up at me for a moment, my hand still over his. This close to him, I could see the thick lashes that surrounded his dark-blue eyes, and my stomach flipped in circles.
He moved the camera up to his face. “Smile,” he said, but I looked away and let my hair cascade in front of my face. “What? The photographer doesn’t like having her picture taken?” he asked as he snapped another one.
