Chapter 3
CONNOR
“Order for Bambi!”
I hop off my stool, tug on the brim of my cap to pull it lower over my eyes, and keep my chin tucked.
Stuffing my phone into my pocket with one hand, the other reaches out for my coffee. I’m gonna need every ounce of my trusted pre-workout pick-me-up to get through this afternoon’s captain’s run.
“Hey—what are you doing?” A tiny hand clasps the base of the cup, and in a blink, I’m playing tug of war with a literal elf. One who’s trying to commandeer possession of my coffee.
My eyes fall to where she glares up at me.
Immediately, my pulse ratchets up as I catch a rapid sweep across her features.
Sapphire blue eyes, busy glaring at me. Plump lips with a sweet little Cupid’s bow.
Elegant nose, a heart-shaped face framed by long golden hair, all pixie-like with a dainty, pointed chin.
This girl is a fucking knockout.
She eyes me up menacingly, still clinging to the cup, and it’s incredibly cute, considering she’s all of five feet tall and barely comes up to my chest. Is that a subtle fruity scent?
It’s hard to tell. The essence hovers just on the limits of what I can detect, with the café’s smells of roasted coffee and sugary melted chocolate drowning everything else out, to my frustration.
“I think you’ll find that’s mine.” Her voice might be polite, but her eyes are doing the throwing daggers thing.
Tilting my head, I point at the letters scrawled on the side. “Don’t think so, lass. Says my name right here.”
She opens her mouth, then closes it again.
There isn’t a double take or second glance, no hint of dawning recognition in her eyes.
Which I guess isn’t surprising, since I’m purposely trying to lay low with my trusted cap trick.
But that only works for so long. Usually, once I stand up, all that anonymity goes out the window.
Except, she doesn’t seem to know who I am, and I can’t decide whether I like that or not.
Do I want her to know?
Jesus. Get a fucking grip.
“My order is for Bambi, numbskull.” She finally gets some words out, and damn do I like the little growly edge to her soft voice. It sparks something in my blood, kicking a glow of embers to life low in my stomach.
“Fond of woodland creatures?” I smirk.
“I’m fond of not having my drink order stolen.”
“Looks like you’re the one trying to take mine from where I’m standing.”
Her blue eyes narrow and flick down to take me in for a quick assessment, before sweeping back up. I really fucking like having her eyes on me.
“You don’t strike me as a hot chocolate and marshmallows guy. More like egg whites and protein shakes.”
Tapping the lid, I give her a wink. “Funny you say that. I asked for extra egg whites to be added in there today.”
For whatever reason, I don’t want to relinquish my hold on this cup, and I don’t want her to, either.
“Fascinating,” she drawls. “Now, can you kindly take your big paws off my drink? I’ve got somewhere to be.”
Oh, she’s cute, alright. A little bit of wildfire in a tiny package. I’m probably benching four times her weight on the daily, yet she stares me down without so much as a blink.
It’s … refreshing. So often, I’m used to attracting the wrong kind of attention. Unwanted, or unsolicited, or just downright the kind I should know better and walk away from because it’s only the famous name they see, not the real guy underneath the jersey.
“Got a hot date to get to with Thumper?”
That results in an eye roll.
“C’mon, Bambi. You gotta give me something to work with here.” I flash a grin.
Mystery girl scowls back.
“Aren’t you curious to know why we’re both trying to lay claim to this cup? Doesn’t that make you the least bit interested?”
“Not particularly.”
She gives me the kind of aloof glare that tells me I’m the least interesting person in the world.
It’s incredibly sexy.
“We could share it? Half-half?”
“Or you could just go order your own, you know, rather than swooping in like a seagull.”
“I prefer the idea of something a little more ruthless. A hawk, maybe.”
“My drink isn’t prey up for grabs. Besides, it’s a total seagull move. Stubborn, squawking, and not willing to listen to reason.” Her fingers give the base of the cup a little tug.
My mind races. I’m gonna be late for training if I hang around too much longer, and I really don’t need to be suffering through extra punishing running drills to make up for it. But damn, do I need—want like I can’t explain—to get her number.
“How about you let me take you out, Bambi? I promise I can prove how well I listen to reason over a killer linguine.”
Tilting her head to one side, she hits me with those fuck-right-off eyes once more.
“Okay, well, what about your number?”
“Nope.”
“Just a few digits? Gimme a clue… I’m sure I can work out the rest eventually.”
She shakes her head, loose waves dancing around her shoulders. I really fucking want to reach out and brush the strands of her bangs ever so slightly, so they don’t get in her eyes.
“Another order for… Bambi?” the barista calls out, interrupting my intense focus on her. It’s like the bubble pops, and that moment we’d been caught in, where time slowed down to a crawl and all the sounds of this café dropped away momentarily, they’re all back in Technicolor with surround sound.
My little pixie looks triumphant, snatching the cup from my grasp when I falter for a second.
This time, it’s my drink being slid across the counter.
That twinkle in her big blue eyes is enough to leave me prepared to beg. I don’t know how I’ll get this girl’s attention, but she obviously isn’t going to be swayed by anything to do with who I am or what I do.
And that fact? Yeah, I’m really digging that.
As I pick up my coffee, she lets her eyes fall to the side of my cup, before returning to hold my own.
“Looks as though you’ve got enough digits to keep you entertained, big guy.” She taps the edge of my lid with a manicured fingernail. “See you ’round.”
When I glance down at the cup, there’s a phone number scribbled up the side.
And the girl with cold fire in her eyes, and a whole lot of independence in her veins, has disappeared.
Fuck.