6. - – Marcus
CHAPTER SIX
-
MARCUS
You would think a man built like me—someone people usually cross the street to avoid—wouldn’t feel this damn nervous meeting a woman for breakfast.
Through the wandering customers, I spot Sarah sitting in a booth without trying. How long has she been here? Am I late?
I check my watch.
I’m early.
Her long hair tumbles over a delicate shoulder. Maybe I should leave. Stop myself from crossing this line before it’s too late.
One step forward.
Toward her.
Toward what awaits me if I sit in that booth across from her.
It’s just a drink.
“Hi,” I say, stopping beside her.
She startles, then gives me a small smile as I sit across from her. “Hi.”
The sunlight pours through the windows, catching the curl of steam rising from nearby mugs. It’s just after eight—early enough that the café is quiet, late enough that her kids are already at school.
“It’s supposed to be a nice day today.” Talk about the weather. That’s casual enough. Nothing too heavy.
Her eyes slide to the window as a bicyclist rides past. “Yeah, no rain today. I hate the rain.”
“Same.”
She shifts her weight. I glance at the counter, then back at her. “Have you ordered yet?”
“I have to go order it. Remember? I’m paying.”
I chuckle. “I would never let a woman pay for my drink. I got it this time.”
She smirks. “You’re stubborn.”
While I wait for our drinks, I watch her.
Sarah shifts from one foot to the other, eyes moving around the café: counter, windows, door. Then back again.
The bell over the front door rings, and her shoulders jump. She turns so fast she nearly bumps into me before forcing herself still.
The person in front of us finished her order, and I take a step toward the counter. I let Sarah order first, waiting patiently as she scans the board above the cashier.
Once both of us are done ordering, we make our way back to our booth and settle. But she is still on edge. Her head is still on a swivel as she looks at everyone surrounding us.
“Hey,” I say gently, “can we switch seats? The sun is hitting me directly in the eyes, and it’s driving me crazy. You may just be short enough that it won't even touch you.” I smirk.
She looks at the window, then back to me, her nose scrunching like she knows I’m lying. Then, she gives me a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
We switch seats, and her shoulders visibly relax.
“Better?” I ask.
“Yeah. Thanks.” She takes a careful sip. “I didn’t use to be like this, you know? All jumpy and shit.”
“It’s normal,” I say softly. “I don’t know. I think this takes guts. Sitting out in public like this so soon?”
“Really?”
“Really. Especially since we’re ‘strangers’.”
She drops her gaze to her lap. “Can I tell you something?”
“Sure.”
“You make me feel… I don’t know… safe.” She lets out a breath. “I know that sounds weird since I don’t really know you, but just your… voice.” Nervously, she laughs. “I’m sorry, you probably think I’m so strange right now.”
My heart races. “Not at all.”
It’s just this. Only a drink.
She wipes away an escaped tear and turns toward the window. “I’m sorry. I’ve made a mess of things. I just wanted to thank you properly. I just…” She groans, and my chest tightens.
“You’re fine,” I chuckle, smiling over the rim. “Actually… you’re kinda cute when you’re flustered.”
She smiles at me over her cup and brushes her hair forward to hide the way the tips of her ears turn red.“Shut your face. This is terrible,” she laughs—not the forced, fake laugh she’s been giving me, but an actual laugh that makes my ears tingle with pleasure.
I want to make her do it again.
After a moment, she clears her throat. “Thank you so much for joining me. I’m sure you had plenty of other things to do on your day off.”
“Nothing more important than you.” I cough. “I mean this. This. Getting coffee.”
She takes one last sip, then sets her empty cup aside. We toss our trash and step outside together.
At our cars, she slows. Her shoulders dip as she looks down at her feet.
“Would you like to maybe do this again sometime?”
I hesitate, keys cool in my palm.
She notices immediately. “Only if you want to,” she adds. “I don’t want to put you in a weird position.”
My chest tightens. “You’re not.”
She studies my face. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
“Okay,” she says softly, a smile tugging at her mouth. “Then… do you want my number?”
I shake my head, a slow grin breaking through. “I was actually going to ask if you wanted mine.”
Her cheeks turn pink. “Oh. Yeah. That would be great.”
We exchange numbers, and I watch as she leaves the parking lot.
What the hell am I doing?
This was just supposed to be coffee.