Chapter 4 #2
The guy in front of me takes forever to order and interrogates the waitress about the gluten content of every pastry in the display case. I stare idly at the chalkboard menu.
The bell over the door rings. I don’t even have to turn around to know that Koda is standing behind me.
I can sense his presence the way you sense a wolf behind you in the woods. The hair on my arms prickles. Every instinct says run, but instead I angle myself to hide, then shift to the far side of the pastry case and pretend to study the muffins.
I’m not ready for this. I can’t be face-to-face with him again, not less than twelve hours after the last time.
Curiosity gets the better of me, though.
I peek over my shoulder, and there he is.
He’s wearing a forest green henley that fits snug through the chest and arms, and jeans that look almost too tight for a man his size. He scans the room, searching for something. His gaze passes right over me for a second, then comes snapping back.
Then we lock eyes, and my pulse goes haywire.
Koda doesn’t smile, not exactly, but the corner of his mouth lifts in what could almost be amusement.
Did he come here looking for me?
Koda makes his way to the line and stops behind me. Up close, he smells like pine and something distinctly male that makes my pulse race.
“Morning, Charlotte.” His voice is deeper in the daytime. “Looks like we had the same idea.”
I try to smile naturally, as if I hadn’t spent the night imagining his hands all over my body.
“Great minds think alike, I guess. Though you picked a gloomy day to try this place out.”
He glances toward the windows. His brow furrows.
“Yeah, storm’s rolling in fast. Forecast says it might be a big one.”
“Cooper Heights special.” I’m grateful for the neutral topic. “Beautiful one day, biblical storm the next.”
His lips quirk up, and my eyes fixate on the movement.
“What do you usually get here?” He asks. “Since you’re the expert.”
“The blueberry muffins are non-negotiable,” I reply. “And their coffee is strong enough to wake the dead.”
“Sounds perfect.” His gaze drifts over my face then lingers on my lips for just a heartbeat too long. “I could use some resurrection this morning.”
Heat blooms in my cheeks.
Is he… flirting with me?
We reach the front of the line before I can respond.
“Morning, sunshine.” Lainey Ruins, the diner’s owner, greets me with her usual enthusiasm. “The usual?”
“Please.” I dig in my purse for my wallet. “Large coffee, black, and—”
“A blueberry muffin.” Koda finishes for me. “Put it on my tab. And I’ll have the same.”
I turn to protest.
“You don’t have to do that. I can pay my own way.”
“I know you can, sweetheart,” Koda replies.
He hands Lainey his credit card without even looking at me.
The endearment makes me blush. When did I stop being “kiddo” or “little Palmer” to him? The casual way he says it, like it belongs on his tongue when he talks to me, makes my stomach flutter with dangerous possibilities.
Lainey raises an eyebrow at us but says nothing as she rings up the order.
We walk to the pick-up counter. A little bubble of awkwardness follows us like a pet. I clear my throat and try to sound casual.
“I didn’t expect to see you at the bottom of the mountain this early.”
I keep my tone light, but I’m hoping he doesn’t notice the way my hands are shaking as I shove them into my jacket pockets.
Koda’s mouth twitches.
“Dana’s got me teaching a beginner boxing class at the gym later. Figured I’d grab breakfast first.”
“A beginner class, huh? That sounds...” I picture him surrounded by suburban moms in workout gear and can’t suppress a smile. “Interesting.”
“That’s one word for it.” His expression turns pained. “They film everything for social media now. If you see me getting humiliated online, just pretend you don’t know me.”
I laugh despite the tension crackling between us.
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
Our names are called. I grab both coffees and the bag with the muffins.
“I’ll trade you,” I tell him. “You take the drinks, I’ll handle the food?”
Koda takes the cups from me. His fingers brush mine for a split second.
The contact is nothing, but it feels like an electric shock up my arm. I can’t help but notice how his hands completely swallow the cardboard cup, how the veins stand out on the back of his hand as he grips it. I want to ask if he ever misses fighting, but the words stick in my throat.
“What about you?” he asks. “School today?”
“Kind of. We don’t have class today but I’m heading up there after I leave here.” I try to sound upbeat, but the anxiety creeps in. “I’m going in for extra practice. I’ve got an extra credit assignment I’m working on.”
“Extra credit, huh?”
“Yeah. I’m sort of at the bottom of my class.”
He considers this, then says, “Nobody remembers the kid who got straight A’s. They remember the one who worked their ass off.”
I know that’s not true, but it’s such a Koda thing to say that it makes me feel better anyway.
I look down at the paper bag in my hands, not sure how to respond. Koda looks at the clock.
“I should probably get going,” He says. “I don’t want to be late for my class.”
There’s a finality in his tone, as if he’s reminding himself not to linger. I want to ask him to stay, or at least to walk me to my car, but I can’t make the words come out.
Instead, I say, “Thanks for the coffee, Koda. And the pep talk.”
His eyes dart to the storm clouds outside.
“Drive safe, Charlotte. And if you ever need anything, call me.” He grabs a napkin from the counter and scribbles on it. Then he hands it to me. “That’s my cell. I don’t always answer, but I’ll always call back.”