Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
AUGUST
I ’m hallucinating. Seeing her face everywhere, even in coffee shop windows like I’m some lovesick fool who can’t think of anything else but her . I’ve become the ultimate cliché and I even shake my head once. Close my eyes and count to three before I open them again, fully expecting her to be a mirage that dissolves into nothingness.
But no. Sinclair Miller is sitting at a small table by herself at the campus coffee shop where everyone and their goddamn mother go to grab a drink like their lives depend on it. I rarely go. Caffeine has never appealed to me and sometimes I wonder if I’m the fucked-up one who’s missing out.
Clearly, I am because my goddamn dream girl is sitting inside the café I never go to, those big golden eyes locked on mine. She looks like she’s just seen a ghost.
I can relate.
Without hesitation I veer toward the door and enter the coffee shop, grimacing at the wave of heat and noise that greets me. Music is blaring over hidden speakers and I can hear the grinding of espresso beans. The hiss of steam from the massive coffee machines. The line to purchase a too-expensive drink is long, winding its way throughout the shop, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here.
My gaze lands on the back of Sinclair’s head and I’m about to approach her table—and say what, I have no fucking idea—when I hear someone call my name.
I come to a stop and turn to my right to see one of our eager pledges waving at me like he’s a toddler who just spotted his mother and is about to piss his pants, he’s so excited. Irritated, I go to him because at least it gives me purpose and I’m still trying to come up with what I want to say to Sin.
“Hey, prez. Good to see you. You come here often?” The newest member of our fraternity asks me, a giant smile on his goofy face. He seems like a too friendly fucker and I never trust those types. Meaning, I immediately hate him.
“I come here never,” I tell him, and he rears back as if I offended him.
“Weird. That’s what Sinclair said too.”
Anger simmers in my gut, threatening to overflow, and I take a deep breath, reminding myself I need to remain calm. This guy—Troy, Ty? He’s done nothing wrong. “You know Sinclair?”
Realization dawns and he takes a step backward. “Yo, bro. I’m not trying to get with her, if that’s what you’re thinking. Is she your girl? I don’t want to step on any toes. I saw you two talking Friday night and I asked her about it?—”
I interrupt him. “What did she say?”
“That it was nothing. That you don’t have a girlfriend.” He frowns, his thick brows lowering over his eyes and giving him a Neanderthal appearance. I expect him to swing his arms and start grunting at any second. “You don’t have one, do you? As in, Sinclair?”
Swallowing hard, I’m fully prepared to blast this ingrate and tell him to go straight to hell. That she belongs to me. But that’s bullshit and we both know it. “She’s not my girlfriend. ”
I spit the words out, one after the other, and he blinks with every single one. Dumbass. “Right. Cool. I was hoping you would say that.”
My hands curl into fists as if I have no control over them. “Are you two on a—date?”
“She’s in my English class and yeah. I asked her to coffee and she said yes.” He rubs his hands together, that stupid smile still on his face. “I’ve been trying to catch her attention since the first day of school and finally today, she noticed me.”
Hmm. Her timing is questionable.
“Tim! Your order is ready!” the barista screams, making me wince. Jesus, it’s so loud in this establishment.
“Hey, I gotta go but it was great seeing you.” Tim—not Troy or Ty—grabs my hand without my permission and pumps it twice in the most overenthusiastic shake I’ve ever been given. “Wish me luck that I don’t blow this.”
Before I can wish him luck, which I would never do because I want him to fail spectacularly, he strides away and grabs the two drinks and a pastry bag from the barista, smiling and winking at her as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. I stand there and watch him head over to the table where Sinclair is sitting. Watch her tilt her head back when he pauses beside her and sets a cup on the table in front of her, and how she smiles at him.
My heart fucking pangs and I rub at my chest absently, surprised that the vital organ still exists.
Tim settles into the chair across from her and gleefully tears into the paper bag, pulling out a massive Danish that is cherry-filled and looks messy.
I would never eat anything like that and from the faintly disgusted look on Sinclair’s face, I’m thinking she never would either. That gives me the slightest hint of satisfaction.
She pushes her chair back and stands and I freeze, my gaze tracking her every movement as she approaches the counter and grabs some extra napkins and a plastic knife, along with a couple of forks. The moment she turns away from the counter, she spots me.
Sin doesn’t look happy to see me either.
I brace myself as she marches right up to me, her body practically vibrating with defiance and anger. I don’t even flinch when she thrusts her index finger in my face, fully prepared for her wrath, and holy shit, is that my dick twitching?
A pissed-off Sinclair is a hot Sinclair, apparently.
“Are you stalking me?” Her accusatory tone is sexy as fuck.
“No.” I scoff like what she’s suggesting is absurd. “I don’t stalk anyone, least of all you.”
“Then why are you in this coffee shop?”
“Why are you in this coffee shop? Everyone comes here. I’m in here all the time.” The lie spills smoothly from my lips.
She pauses, leaning back a little as if she needs to assess me. “You are?”
“Yes.” I bend down and lean in close, my face in hers. “And I never see you. So who are you to tell me that I’m stalking you? Maybe you’re stalking me.”
Her mouth twists into a little pout that is positively delectable just before she exhales loudly. “Stay away from me or I might sic my new boyfriend on you.”
I chuckle. “Tim? He’s about as intimidating as a puppy. You sic him on me and he’ll end up licking my face, not biting my ass.”
An aggravated noise leaves her and she turns on her heel, leaving me where I stand so she can go rejoin her “new boyfriend.”
Please. That’s never going to happen. Not if I have anything to say about it.