A Whirlwind of Color - Chapter 23

Sunday

“I’ve been here before,” I said as James pulled to a stop in front of the coffee shop on Main Street.

Austin had introduced me to this place. They had amazing pastries.

I honestly wasn’t a huge fan of coffee, but I was trying to get used to it.

Always trying to fit in even though I never seemed to be able to.

I glanced over at James as he put the car in park. Did he truly understand me?

He smiled, like he somehow knew exactly what I was thinking. “This is where we met.”

He had told me the story when we had dinner the other night.

I looked back out the window. This was the place that changed the course of my life?

I unbuckled my seatbelt as James climbed out of the car.

All I felt when I looked at this storefront was slightly sick.

How many times had I sat in there while Austin flirted with other girls right in front of me?

James opened my door and put his hand out for me.

Could James really have erased all that pain? Could he have made this one of my favorite places? Could he have made me feel like I was worthy of more than being second? There was one way to find out.

I let him take my hand and help me out of the car.

Another first. No one had ever opened a car door for me, let alone taken my hand and helped me out.

Except for the valet earlier. It truly felt like I was a princess in some Disney fairy tale.

As memories from college began seeping in, I was starting to remember more than just happily studying all the time.

I remembered feeling lonely. I remembered feeling like I just didn’t quite fit.

It wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine like I was trying to believe.

Maybe I had needed a knight in shining armor more than I realized.

My life certainly hadn’t been perfect. I had a sort of boyfriend who I was pretty sure cheated on me.

Not that you could cheat if we technically weren’t an item.

I cried myself to sleep a lot. Sometimes I was homesick for Wilmington.

The only real friend I had made was Melissa and she was always busy with social activities that I wanted nothing to do with.

I usually took my food to go from the dining hall so I didn’t have to eat alone.

Looking back on everything, I don’t think I was really that happy.

I think I was pretending to be. Maybe James had saved me, not the other way around.

I looked up at the sky. It had been drizzling when we left the country club, but the storm had ceased. The clouds were still threatening though. Maybe it would start pouring any minute. What was my sudden fascination with the rain? James squeezed my hand, pulling my attention back to him.

“So, I was walking in when you were walking out,” he said as he opened the door for me.

“The door collided with your cup and you started to fall. You got coffee all over yourself, but I caught you. And I don’t know how to explain it exactly, but when you were in my arms it felt like all my problems went away.

Nothing mattered but you.” He smiled down at me. “That feeling has never gone away.”

I stood in the doorway, waiting for the memory to flood back. But it didn’t. Not one single heartfelt part of that story made me remember him. It was romantic and perfect and almost too good to really be true.

“You were wearing those red rain boots that Melissa hates. And I have to respectfully disagree with her. I’m pretty sure they’re the epitome of sexiness, not un-sexiness.”

I laughed. But he wasn’t laughing. Wait, was he serious? “I was wearing my red rain boots when I met you? And you still fell in love with me?”

The saddest smile I had ever seen was on his face. I had never seen a smile hold so much pain. “You really don’t remember.” He didn’t phrase it as a question. His voice was as broken as his smile.

“I’m sorry, James.”

He shook his head like he didn’t believe me. “Okay, you walk out while I walk in. And pretend to slip when the door opens. We’ll recreate it. You’ll remember everything.” He walked out of the coffee shop before I had a chance to stop him.

This was ridiculous. I wasn’t going to suddenly remember. But he was already walking in, trying to recreate a scene that was only in his memory.

What did he want me to do? Slip? It wouldn’t hurt to play along. At least he’d know I tried to remember, even though I had been trying all night.

“Oh me, oh my, I’m falling.” I placed the back of my hand on my forehead like I was a damsel in distress and teetered to the side. I was pretty sure I looked more like a drunk person than someone slipping.

Before I teetered too much, I felt his strong hands grab my waist, holding me steady.

“I’m so sorry. Are you alright?" he asked.

“I’m fine.” I kept my eyes on the ground. Ever since the golf course, I had wanted him to hold me again. Not just a hand. But hold me like he needed me. That’s how I felt right now. Like he truly needed me.

His hands slowly fell off my waist. "I'm afraid I've ruined your shirt."

I looked at my dress, trying to remember the story he had told.

Coffee. He said he had spilled coffee all over my tank top.

"Oh, crap,” I said. “That’s…very unfortunate.

Rats.” Rats? God, I was being so weird. I awkwardly snapped my fingers, which made it so much worse.

There was a reason I was never cast in plays growing up.

Although, it probably had nothing to do with my awkward improv and everything to do with my shyness.

“Here,” he said. He started unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“What are you doing?” I asked. Had he given me a striptease after dousing me with hot coffee? I glanced over my shoulder at the checkout counter. But there was no one there. They were probably calling the police.

“Just play along,” he whispered.

I started to shake my head, but then froze when he unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way.

Seeing his perfect six pack again made my whole body feel warm.

James just stood there, topless, in the middle of a public restaurant.

Even though it was inappropriate, I couldn’t stop staring.

I didn’t even know which was worse – me staring or him taking his shirt off in the first place.

I pulled my eyes away from his perfect body and up to his face.

It truly looked like he had stepped out of the pages of a magazine.

His dark brown hair was still a little wet from the drizzle earlier.

The way it was sticking up made it look like he had just run his hand through it.

His jawbone was sharp and there were dimples in his cheeks.

His eyes were a deep brown like his hair and they were staring at me intently.

My heart began to beat fast. He handed me his shirt.

"That's okay. I can't take that," I laughed uneasily. "You should put it back on, James." I moved to the side so he could pass by me. I felt my cheeks begin to blush.

"I insist." He had a slight smile on his face. "First day of classes," he shrugged. "You'll want to make a good first impression."

I took the shirt from him. Had he really walked around without a shirt all morning? "Thank you," I said quietly.

He was staring at me expectantly.

I pulled on his shirt. It was huge but comfortable.

The scent of sweet cologne drifted off of it.

It made me feel slightly dizzy. I could feel myself staring at him.

"I'm sorry, I should probably go. I'm going to be late…

for classes I guess." It came out as more of a question than anything.

He was so handsome that I was acting even more awkward than usual.

His lips parted like he was about to say something, but then they closed again.

What was he about to say? I waited for a moment, but all he did was stare at me, setting my skin on fire.

I guess that's my cue to leave? I smiled gratefully and walked out of the coffee shop. Bright red rain boots and a men’s dress shirt?

Had I really worn that to my first day of class? I’m sure Melissa had loved that story.

I pulled off his shirt as he joined me on the sidewalk, but his the scent of his cologne was still all around me. It lingered on my skin and in my hair. God, just the smell of him made me want to beg for more.

He was staring at me so hopefully.

“That was…nice. I can see why I couldn’t forget about you.” I held the shirt out for him but he didn’t take it.

“Did that bring anything back?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry.” I pushed the shirt into his hands. “Did you really give me your shirt? What happened to no shirt, no shoes, no service?”

“I gave you my sweater. I was wearing a dress shirt underneath.”

That made more sense. I looked down at the dress shirt in his hand. “You should put that back on before you get arrested.”

“We’re the only ones around.”

“What about the owner of the coffee shop?”

“I’m the owner. It’s closed right now. I just had them leave it open for us.”

“You bought the coffee shop where we met?”

“I didn’t want it to change. I wanted everything to stay exactly the way it was when we ran into each other.” He looked down at the shirt in his hands. “And it wasn’t just where we met. It’s also where I proposed to you. Where you said yes.”

That was so sweet and romantic and wonderful.

I bit the inside of my lip. But I still didn’t remember.

Coming here hadn’t triggered anything. I could see myself falling for him one day.

But I hadn’t already fallen. He was so much further ahead of me, I knew I’d never catch up.

None of this was fair to him. I needed to tell him I was staying here. It was so hard to find the words.

“You’ll remember. I know you will. You just need more time.” He pulled his dress shirt back on and slowly buttoned it, hiding his perfect abs beneath the fabric.

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