Page 42 of New Growth
My eyes widened. “He’s what?”
Lizzie tilted her head toward the back of the café, where he was sitting, but I didn’t dare look.
“Be nice,” she whispered. “He’s become a valuable customer.”
“Yeah, right,” I muttered, gripping the counter.
A second later, I felt his presence beside me before I even turned my head.
“Hey, Elliot.”
His voice was smooth, confident, but not overly cocky. Just enough for me to stand at attention from his tone and contemplate if I’d need new underwear every time he spoke. He said my name like it was an intimacy shared between us. Like because our names were the same, we were close.
But that was not the case.
I turned to face him, keeping my expression neutral. “Hi. And you can just call me Ellie. I think it’ll make things less confusing.”
He nodded, then corrected himself. “Right.Ellie.”
Damn it! That sounds intimate, too.
“I’ve been looking forward to running into you again,” he continued.
I raised a brow and asked dryly, “Why?”
He exhaled, shifting slightly. “I feel like we may have gotten off on the wrong foot the other day. I don’t like how we left things.”
He stood so close that I had to tilt my head back just to meet his eyes. The space between us was almost nonexistent, making me question if I had ever truly valued personal space.
“Like I said before, it’s okay.” I gave a small shrug. “Believe me, I’ve gotten over it. Hasn’t even crossed my mind since it happened.”
I lied. It did—a few times, actually—but that was only because I couldn’t help but be intrigued by the man with whom I shared my name. Especially after the way he looked at me that day.
“Well, unfortunately,” he said, his voice lower now, “It hasn’t left mine.”
I glanced at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “Oh?”
He nodded while raking his strange eyes over my body, “Seriously. I can’t go on knowing I’ve wronged you. I’m stuck, Ellie.”
Don’t blush. Don’t blush. For Christ’s sake, Elliot Sawyer, do not blush.
Thankfully, Lizzie chose that moment to place my coffee and desserts on the counter.
I cleared my throat, trying to keep my composure. “Well, how about you get this round, and we’ll call it even?”
His lips curved into a slow smirk. “Thank you.”
As he pulled out his wallet and paid, I found myself watching him longer than I should have. The way his biceps tensed slightly beneath the crisp fabric of his dress shirt caught my attention. His hands were rough, worn—calluses forming along a few fingers, making me wonder what kind of work had left them that way.
When he pulled his card from the machine, a glimpse of ink peeked out from beneath his sleeve before he shifted, covering it again, leaving me curious about what was hidden away.
Lizzie shot me a look before walking away, but I ignored her. When we were alone again, my attention returned to his eyes.
“So,” I said, stirring my coffee. “Satisfied?”
“Not entirely. No,” he confessed.
I sighed in defeat at his difficulty.I thought Hope was hard to please.
