Chapter 64
COLE
The coffee shop opened at six in the morning.
Eva arrived at six-fifteen on Saturday mornings, ordered her ridiculous sweet concoction, and studied until her eight o’clock physical therapy session.
Not that I was tracking her schedule. Not that I’d memorized how she’d curl up in the oversized armchair by the window, tucking her feet under her while she read.
I was just making sure she was okay.
The Wall Street Journal made a decent shield. I could watch her over the financial section, pretending the tight feeling in my chest was anything but longing.
Six-thirteen. The bell chimed.
My coffee cup froze halfway to my mouth.
She walked straight to my table without hesitating, like she’d known I was there all along.
Fuck.
She slid into the chair across from me, reached for my coffee. The oversized sweater—one of Tristan’s, damn him—slipped off her shoulder as she lifted the cup to her lips. Her throat worked as she swallowed.
I couldn’t breathe.
She set the cup down and leaned forward. Her hair brushed my cheek as her lips found my ear.
“Eight o’clock tonight. Center ice.” Her voice was silk and sin. “Stop fucking hiding from me.”
Then, she was gone, leaving only the phantom press of her mouth against my skin and a lipstick stain on my coffee cup.