3. Gracie
I try to focus on my book this morning, but Trevor’s presence is as distracting as ever. He’s reading a magazine on the table facing mine, his right leg crossed over the left as he taps one foot lightly on the ground.
A half cup of latte is in front of him, and his attention shifts from his magazine to me, periodically. Each time our eyes meet, a tremor spikes over my nerves and rattles me.
There’s something about the heat in his eyes. The unspoken layers of passion keep drawing me in. My outburst yesterday proves there’s still a spark between us. No matter how hard I try denying it, Trevor’s return leaves a tender sprout of tingles in the base of my heart. I’m trying not to focus on that either, but he keeps looking at me.
I notice how he slicks his fingers through his hair and rolls his sleeves up. All that and the burning feeling of his eyes make it impossible for me to focus.
Why is he looking at me?Trevor’s words keep coming to mind. I came back for you, Gracie. I know I shouldn’t believe a word he says. The man will say anything to get what he wants. I should focus on figuring out what his end goal is.
Returning to Golden Bay, buying Espresso Books.Jace is his best friend, and he should know better, but Jace has never been one to talk about Trevor’s personal life with anyone, including me.
Just focus on your work, Gracie. With a deep sigh, I focus on my laptop’s screen again and try processing the first words that come to mind so I can type them down.
I’ve been stuck at the third chapter of my romance novel for weeks now. I close my eyes and try to focus on my thoughts. Trevor’s no longer in his seat when I re-open them, and that’s a relief.
I heave a deep breath, rub my shoulders to ease the kinks there, and start typing the words in my head. A little time passes till Trevor walks into the café and takes his seat again.
My mind’s completely buried in my book, so I don’t notice when he gets up again, walks to me, and pulls out the chair opposite mine.
“What are you doing?”
I nearly jump out of my skin from the shock of him speaking next to me. Trevor’s brow spikes up, and he tries steering my laptop towards him so he can look at my screen.
“What are you doing?” My hand brushes over his as I stop him from taking my laptop.
“Are you writing a book?” he asks. “You always talked about writing one. I remember you started a few times but never made it past the first three chapters.” He smiles easily, and the twinkle in his eyes makes me squirm in my seat.
“Yes, I’m writing a book,” I answer and close my laptop. “I’ll make it past the first three chapters this time.”
“What’s it about?” he asks almost immediately.
“It’s not your business.” My lips form a pout, and I try getting up, but Trevor clamps a hand over mine on the table and I freeze.
His hand is warm over mine, and the heat spirals through me, ruffling my nerves till I feel the tension in me rise higher. I’m speechless, but I try controlling my flush.
“Sorry,” he whispers when he realizes his hand is on mine. “I just…” Trevor rubs a hand over his chin and relaxes in his chair again. I do the same. The tip of my tongue swats over my lower lip, and I clear my throat to get rid of the awkwardness in the air.
“You shouldn’t stop working because of me,” he says. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just thought…It’s okay if you don’t want me here,” he stammers, then moves to leave his seat.
“No,” I call out without thinking. “I mean…I…”
Why do I always blabber when he is close?
The onslaught of heat sizzling through me makes me shake my head and laugh a little. “It’s fine. I was heading back to the counter soon, anyway. Friday evenings are our book sales day. We will have lots of book lovers trooping in here soon.”
“Oh,” he gasps, then nods with a smile.
“Sure you want to hang around for that? You’re quite popular and all. There’ll be lots of people fawning over you if they meet you here.”
“I doubt anyone will be paying attention to me,” he answers.
I nearly scoff at that cocky statement. Trevor knows every girl will fawn over him. He gets their attention all the time, anyway.
“Right,” I say as I get up and walk away with my laptop. I’m aware of his eyes following my every move.
Natalie leans over the counter when I get there. Her eyes hold a gleam as she asks. “What are you two always talking about?” She’s swiping a dry napkin over the counter as she looks at me, and I feign a smile.
“Nothing,” I lie in a shaky voice. “He’s just being Trevor.”
“You two seem pretty cozy,” she continues with a knowing smile. Natalie’s voice drops a notch as she continues. “With the way he’s been looking at you, someone would think he has a crush on you.”
An unexpected laugh spews out of me with a rocking force that makes me tip my head back. “What?” I croak, ignoring the flashing thrill that buzzed through me right then. “Trevor doesn’t have a crush on me. We go way back, that’s all.”
When Natalie arches a brow suspiciously, I slap her arm playfully and continue. “He’s my brother’s best friend…I’ve known him since I was a kid, that’s all. There’s no crush or whatever going on there. He’s Trevor Hawkins…” Hot, wealthy basketballer Trevor Hawkins. “He has women at his beck and call every second of the day. Why would he have a crush on someone like me?”
Natalie’s lips form a small frown. “You give yourself too little credit, Gracie,” she says before turning away.
Her words reverberate through me a long second after she turns away. I glance over my shoulder at Trevor and find him still sitting where I left him, his hand rubbing his chin gently.
Over the years, I’ve kept tabs on Hawkins. His career, his achievements. I’ve watched every game and read every rumor and article about him. He doesn’t have the best reputation in the celebrity world, but I know the man he is deep inside.
At least, I used to know.
I drag in a deep breath, hoping to win the struggle with my nerves and heart soon. Because Trevor Hawkins spells trouble. He always has!
***
By that evening, the bookstore is swamped with customers wanting discounted books.
Trevor suggests free coffee drinks for everyone who buys over two books, and it’s a good plan because many customers decide to sit back, enjoy their coffee, and also buy our other pastries.
I serve a customer a croissant, then head back to the counter to fix another cappuccino. Trevor is behind the counter, trying to froth a cup of milk when I get there.
“You’re holding the cup all wrong,” I say to him as I lower my plate to the table, then place my hand over his to angle the cup closer so it froths at the right angle.
My fingers curl over his larger hand and I instantly love the feel of his warm skin under mine. My chest tightens with the weight of pressure rising inside, and when Trevor lifts his head to look at me, our gazes linger for a long moment.
My world tilts on its axis just from the melting effect his blue eyes have on me. An electric sensation shivers through me, and I wonder if he feels it, too. I don’t hear any other sounds because I’m lost in the moment. The rise of heat to the back of my neck and cheeks is slow but steady.
“I ..Uh…I need to get back to serving the customers,” I stutter, then back away from him.
“Wait,” Trevor calls out, his hand jerks, and the hot milk spills on the back of his palm. He lets go of the cup with a groan, spilling the milk to the ground, and his hand collides with the jug of coffee on the edge of the table next to the coffeemaker.
The coffee spills too, and scalds his right thigh, exposed by the shorts he’s wearing. Trevor steps back and cries out in pain while clutching his right leg upward.
“Oh my... I rush forward to touch him as he cries out, and I notice the red blister forming on his thigh. “We need cold water,” I say, and Natalie arrives with a cup almost immediately. I pour it over the spot the hot coffee touched, and when he winces again, I whisper. “It’ll leave a scar. You need to get it checked at the hospital.”
Trevor is still clutching his leg close when I take his hand. “Can you walk?”
“What?” he croaks. He’s staring at our linked hands for a long moment like he didn’t hear me right the first time.
I lead him towards the door without saying another word. Everyone paves the way for us and he limps quietly by my side till we make it out of the café.
“Hand me your keys, I’ll drive,” I say as I scan the curbs and the street across for a fancy car he’ll obviously drive.
“You sure about that?” Trevor asks as he reaches into his pocket for his key. He hands them over and chuckles as I press the pad of my finger on the button to unlock his car.
The car’s beep draws my attention. I turn to spot the black Ford truck parked on the other side of the street and scoff. “Surprising,” I say, then take his hand again to lead the way. “I was expecting a convertible.”
“You think I’d let you drive my baby? And risk you ramming into a fence with it? No way…You have a terrible sense of direction.”
He’s laughing as he speaks and I can’t help but chuckle too because Trevor isn’t wrong. “That was a long time ago. I’ve learned to drive.”
“And how many cars did you ruin while at it?” He teases again as I open the front passenger seat’s door for him.
Trevor’s teasing laugh stays as I get in the driver’s seat and key the engine to a start. “Better hold on for your dear life,” I threaten jokingly as I bounce onto the road.