Page 14 of That Thing You Brew
Well, why shouldn’t I? He was going to do me a favor. If Xavier could help me lose my stutter, I’d owe him more than a healthy shake and doughnut.
It occurred to me that the doughnut and the matcha protein shake were at odds nutritionally. Maybe he’d save the doughnut for after practice.
Marie applied my employee discount and I paid for the order, tapped the thirty-percent tip option, and scooted down the counter to wait for it.
“Go find a seat. I’ll bring it out to you.” Jannell smiled and nodded toward the only empty table in the front corner of the restaurant.
Xavier’s table.
“Are you s-sure?” I paused to concentrate on getting my next sentence out flub-free. “I can wait.”
She shook her head. “If this Matcha Madness and toffee crunch doughnut are for who I think they’re for, I want to say hi and thank him for his business.”
I snorted. “Yes, m-ma’am.”
I pulled a few napkins from the dispenser and headed toward the front of the café. Two large bay windows flanked the old saloon-style entrance. One side featured a seating area with small sofas. At the other window, small round tables and upholstered chairs filled the space.
I reached the corner table and adjusted the chairs so that my back was to the wall and Xavier’s would be to the window.
Hmm. People might recognize his backside. The broad shoulders, the backward cap, and his larger-than-most frame would be noticeable to passersby, especially those who knew him.
I’d for sure know who he was at a glance. Plus, this was where he usually sat to listen to me play. He’d close his eyes, and a few times I thought I’d put him to sleep. Other times, I felt the heat of his stare on me. Once, I looked up and caught his gaze. It made me warm all over, and it took all my focus to pull my eyes away, like there was a strong supernatural magnet demanding our connection.
Dangerous. I’d tried really hard to avoid that happening again.
I untied the curtain and slid it just past his chair to block the view of his broad shoulders and biceps from the street and then moved the third chair to another table.
Just in case anyone thought it was open.
When everything was just right, I sat in my corner chair and checked the time. Seven fifty. Ten more minutes to get my mind set.
Jannell delivered my order, frowning at the empty chair. I shrugged and arranged the drinks and doughnut on the table, startling every time the bell above the door chimed. I hardly noticed it when I was behind the counter, but today was different.
I sipped my drink and scrolled Instagram, looking for more pictures of Xavier’s face. From what I could tell, the cut was near his hairline, and if their trainer was any good, the scar wouldn’t be too noticeable when it healed.
The door chimed again, and this time when I looked up, the face I’d been staring at on the screen was only a few yards away.Xavier.He paused just inside the door after it closed and scanned the room. His gaze landed on me, and I held it, unblinking.
As he approached my little table, I broke eye contact to take in his backwards Voltage cap with matching hoodie and running pants. I loved how he still lived here in Palmer City and supported his old team.
Should I stand up to greet him? Stay sitting? Say something? I was paralyzed, as frozen as Snowpack Creek this time of year.
What was wrong with me? He was just a guy. A guy I’d known—sort of—forthree years.I was acting like the worst kind of fan.
Xavier slipped into the open seat and flashed a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Stubble dusted parts of his cheeks and neck that were usually trimmed. His bandage was barely visible under his hair and hat. Instinctively, I reached out to touch it but snapped my arm back when I realized what it was doing.
“Hey, Pen.” He spoke low, in his usual kind tone, but something was different. I loved that he called me “Pen,” but I couldn’t celebrate it like I usually did.
Something was wrong. I knew it as sure as I knew how to make his coffee.
“D-does it h-hurt?” I asked.
He shook his head and reached for his matcha. “Thanks for breakfast.”
“Of c-course,” I replied. “W-what’s wrong? Are … are you ch-changing your m-mind? It’s ok-kay.”
“What?” His head lifted, and his eyes locked on mine. “No. Not at all.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I should have canceled today. But it would have been last-minute and … and I didn’t want to.”
Oh, those eyes boring into mine.
