Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Athena
The morning whizzes by. I spend most of it talking to Edel, who would have stayed on longer, but she was falling asleep.
I’m showered and dressed for my meet up with Royce, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel nervous. I can feel the anxiety swarming in my lower stomach, nerves teasing the base of my neck.
I pick mom style jeans and a black vest top; I slide my feet into my chunky sandals. I had no idea what to wear, so went for casual. I can’t see us going anywhere fancy. It’s just coffee.
I slip my phone, card, and key card into my back pocket and grab my sunglasses.
My curls are loose and tumble over my shoulder.
A scrunchie is locked around my wrist as no doubt it will get on my nerves within the hour.
I stop to check my makeup before I walk out the door; I have a subtle red blush, a soft natural lipstick, and mascara frames my amber eyes.
Closing the door behind me, I make my way down to the lobby and see him standing by the check in desk. He’s dressed in an oversized white tee, wide leg blue jeans, and trainers. My eyes roam over him, and I hate to admit it, but he looks good.
We stride towards each other until we’re both toe to toe. Ice blue eyes flick across my face, as if searching for something. My lips pull into a smile.
“Hi.” My voice is low and I catch his smile.
“Hey.” He steps aside and begins to walk for the door.
I follow, catching him up with a few quick steps. “Where are we going?”
“Just a small coffee shop called Little Rogue.” He glances down at me. He isn’t very tall, but he feels big next to my five-foot-four frame.
“Cool,” I whisper as we walk into the sunshine and God, it feels good on my skin.
“Nice?” His voice breaks through to me, and the corners of my lips turn up.
“So good. It’s so cold back home,” I admit, eyes close, face turned up.
“Sun’s good for the soul.”
“I agree.” I hum just as Royce starts speaking to the valet.
“You okay with me driving?” he asks, one hand folded into the pocket of his jeans.
“Of course.” I give him a confused look.
“Wait… you can drive, can’t you?” I tease and he chuckles, playfully pushing my shoulder and slightly unbalancing me.
“Only playing.” I wink just as the valet brings his car around—a blacked out jeep.
It’s not what I would have expected him to drive, but I know better than anyone, you never judge a book by its cover.
“Ready?” he asks as he walks towards the valet and takes his key but not before slipping him a tip.
“Yup.” I skip towards him and climb into the passenger side.
He leans across and straps me in, and I find myself eyeballing him.
“Sorry, safety freak.” A hint of a smile graces his lips.
“Fine by me,” I say, my breath catching at the back of my throat as he slowly rolls his body up, his eyes locking on mine for just a second.
“Good,” he replies, his voice barely audible.
A moment passes and I’m snapped back into reality when the door closes. Catching my breath, he climbs into the driver’s side and starts the engine. Soft music fills the car, something classical in vibe, and I lock my eyes on the display, furrowing my brow.
“Isn’t he a driver?” I point to the screen where it shows the artist and Royce turns to look at me, giving me a nod.
“Yup, composes and plays his own music.” He smiles at me, a dimple presenting itself.
“That’s so cool.”
His face turns back to the road, fingers tightening around the steering wheel.
The drive isn’t long; we make it through three and a bit songs on the playlist before we’re pulling into a space.
Unbuckling my seatbelt, I open the door and jump down, only to find Royce is already waiting for me on the pavement.
“You move quick,” I mutter, lifting my bag onto my shoulder.
“You need to move quick in my job.” He winks at me and I smirk, following him towards the coffee shop.
We sit tucked away at the back of the cute shop. I have a hazelnut latte with whipped cream and sprinkles; Royce has a black coffee. I watch as he eyeballs my coffee, then glares at me.
“What?” I mutter, placing my coffee back on the table and smiling at him.
“Can you even taste the coffee?” His gaze drops to the glass.
“Of course.” I furrow my brow. “Want to try some?”
He holds his hand up and shakes his head. “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.” The corner of his lip lifts as a small smirk creeps onto them.
“It’s got to taste better than your coffee.”
He shrugs, fingers curled around the handle. “Coffee is coffee, I drink it to keep the tiredness at bay.”
“My coffee does that.” I pout and he chuckles.
“Your coffee gives you a huge sugar high, mixed with a caffeine kick just to drop you half hour later with an almighty low.” He sighs, sitting back in the chair, his finger rubbing back and forth over his bottom lip.
“Bet you feel more exhausted after that then you would if you drunk just a black coffee with a drop of milk.”
I don’t reply, but I do listen.
“So, tell me about you. How long have you been writing?” His ice blues gaze into mine.
I shuffle in my seat, slightly uncomfortable before I sit upright. “Few years,” I mumble, fingers wrapped around my cup as I watch the whipped cream wobble slightly on top.
“Enjoy it?” he asks, and I can tell he is genuinely curious.
I mull over his words. “Sometimes,” I say, thinking it’s best to keep it vague.
“Oh.” His reply has me dragging my eyes up to his.
“It’s just hard work sometimes. I mean, people probably don’t think it is because you know, how hard can it be to sit at a computer all day and type words…
It’s not like your job.” I pause for a moment and focus back on the coffee, letting my gaze settle on one sprinkle that seems to be fighting for its life before being sucked into the fluffy goodness that is the cool whipped cream.
“You have to drive this little car around tight tracks at like what… one hundred miles per hour?”
“More like two hundred, sometimes three, depending on the tracks and straights.”
I feel my eyes widen at his blasé response. “Wow.”
He chuckles.
“You love it though, right? You’re one of these people that love their jobs.”
“I fucking love it, yeah.” He nods.
I watch as his eyes glisten, his lips pulling into a full smile and I don’t think I have ever seen a smile as big as his right here, right now.
“Don’t get me wrong, it’s no walk in the park and you’ll see that whilst you shadow me, but fuck, I have never wanted to be anything else.”
“Love that,” I whisper, because suddenly this conversation feels heavy in my chest. My shoulders slump forward slightly, and I can’t quite put my finger on why.
“So, why do you only sometimes like your job?” He circles back to me and I sigh.
“I think I have just lost the buzz for it, if I am being honest with myself…” I pause for a moment, flicking my eyes to his and watch as he sits patiently, his lips slightly parted as if he is hanging on to every word that passes my lips.
“That I just don’t fit into that world anymore.
I feel like I have had my success, you know?
Like my ship has sailed… and I just don’t know if I can physically do it anymore.
I pour my heart and soul into my stories, writing the happily ever afters that I could only ever dream of…
literally.” A small, sad laugh passes my lips on a sigh and my chest aches.
I finally allow myself to look at him, my stomach twisting as I do.
“A lot goes into them, then release day comes, and well…” I puff my cheeks out. “Yeah.” Another laugh leaves me, but this one comes from deep inside me, my whole-body vibrating.
“I don’t believe your ship has sailed.” His voice is steady as he begins talking.
“Yeah, you may have had success prior, but you’ve got to still shoot for the stars, right?
I haven’t won the Drivers’ Championship yet.
I could have given up, walked away and never looked back, but I didn’t, and do you want to know why? ”
“Why?” I whisper, my eyes volleying between his.
“Because I know my time is coming. I know good things are going to happen, and I really believe that will happen with you.”
A tear maps my cheek, and I swipe it away with my palm. I have no idea why I am crying.
“You’re only saying that because I am writing a book that may or may not be loosely based on some racing driver.” I wave my hand around and half roll my eyes.
A throaty laugh bubbles out of him as he brings his coffee cup to his lips. “Maybe.” He takes a mouthful and I watch the way his throat bobs. “Maybe not.” He winks just before getting the waiter’s attention and asking for another round of drinks.
I sit back in my chair and let his words play over in my head. “Okay, I’ll make a deal.” I shuffle forward to the edge of the seat, and I watch as one of his brows lift.
“What kind of deal?”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip. “This book does well, I’ll keep writing.” He glares at me. “And if it doesn’t—”
“It will.” He nods a little too confidently, and I roll my eyes so far back I worry they’ll get stuck.
“If it doesn’t, then I retire as an author and find an alternate career because clearly being a writer isn’t for me… Maybe I’ll be a teacher or something.”
He shakes his head. “You’ll smash this book out of the park.”
“You hold a lot of confidence in me seeing as we have only just met and you haven’t ever read one of my books.”
“How do you know I haven’t?”
“Because you would look at me differently.”
Both brows sit high in his head, a playful glint in his eye. “And how do I look at you?” His legs widen, elbows resting on his knees, his tongue darting out as he licks his upper lip.
“Like I am an angel, like innocence seeps out of my pores.” My cheeks burn and I can feel the heat radiating from them.
“And if I read your book?”
“Books,” I correct him. “Then you will see that I actually have devil horns holding up the halo.”