Page 12 of Fake Love

As I say my name, I watch her. I watch her to see if maybe she’s a baseball fan and recognizes me. Maybe she knows that I’m the new pitcher for the Miners. I watch to see if she debates in her head about revealing that she knows who I am.

But as I watch her, she gives nothing away about even recognizing my name.

I think I like her even more.

“Well, Maddox, it's nice to meet you. But knowing your name, still doesn’t tell me why you waited outside the coffee shop to walk me home.”

Do I tell her? Do I tell her that something about her woke something in me up?

I’m only in town tonight and it’s not like I’ll see this girl again when I come back into town the second week of April.

Might as well give her all my cards.

“Honest truth?” I say, giving her a smirk.

“Obviously.”

“I don’t know what it is, but the second I walked in and I saw you, I was captivated. Maybe it was your eyes or your voice, but whatever it was, made me feel the urge to spend more time around you. And when I walked out, it felt like I needed to stay behind and make sure that you got home safely. Like it was my duty or something.”

I’m seconds away from telling her to forget that I even said anything because of the way she is looking at me, when something shifts.

Jennifer goes from looking at me like I have three heads to giving me a full-blown smile that brings one of my own.

“I thought I was the only one that felt it,” she lets out enthusiastically, the smile reaching her eyes.

Not words that I expected her to say. I for sure thought that she was going to call me a creep.

“You felt it too?” I ask like she didn’t just say she did.

She gives me a nod, coming slightly closer to me. “When you walked in. It was like this pull. I couldn’t explain it, I just thought it was the coffee messing with my head.”

“Definitely not the coffee.” I give her a smirk before breaking the distance between us. “So what do you say about me walking you home?”

“You’re not going to end up in my bed.”

I nod. “I just want to make sure you make it safely.”

Jennifer looks at me with narrowed eyes and a smirk playing at her lips for a minute before she answers.

“The independent woman in me wants me to say that I don’t need you walking me home, but your eyes are too pretty to turn down.”

She doesn’t have a filter, and I like it a little more than I should.

“Pretty eyes, huh?” I smirk, waving at her to start walking.

With an eye roll in my direction, she guides me past the coffee shop.

“Like you didn’t know you were gorgeous.” She states.

“I never had someone say it so bluntly.” I say, my eyes going to the plastic bag she has slung over her shoulder.

Is that food?

A shrug gets thrown in my direction as we cross the street. “I’ve been told more than once that at times I don’t have a filter.”

We cross the street as Jen hikes up the plastic bag on her shoulder some more.

“Do you need help with that?” I offer, already reaching out to take it from her.

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