Chapter 2 Royce
ROYCE
The coffee shop is packed, and all I want to do is get my coffee and get out of here. Coming here was a last-minute decision, a decision I’m regretting with every ounce of my being.
You would think that living in Nashville would make me immune to all the beautiful women that frequent this particular coffee shop and the surrounding area, but I’m not because I’m me.
I’m awkward.
A loner.
And possess absolutely none of the rugged charm and broody charisma that my uncle, and now boss, does. A fact that was made abundantly clear during our two-hour Zoom meeting.
Apparently, I missed all the good genes on that side of the family.
I look at my watch because even though I set my own hours, Uncle Tom is someone I never want to let down.
Not again.
He gave me a job and a fresh start, using my talents for good instead of, well—not necessarily good.
And I actually enjoy cybersecurity and all it entails.
I like making a difference for once.
Which I won’t be able to do if I die from embarrassment standing in the middle of this coffee shop because I can’t get around the cluster of beautiful women blocking my exit.
Squeezing my eyes together, I take a deep breath and will myself not to fade into the background. “Excuse me.” My voice comes out quiet, and the women don’t even acknowledge me. I can feel my body start to vibrate. I’ve been here too long and I need to go.
Swallowing down my frustration, I try again, but the words are only a squeaky whisper.
I’m just about to open my mouth again when I hear my name from across the room.
My nickname.
The one reserved for exactly one woman.
I blink and then blink again as my eyes lock on her.
Kinsley Dane is sitting at a table by herself. She waves, her smile bright and aimed right at me. The woman in front of me looks between us, her eyebrows furrowing.
“Come here; I saved you a seat,” Kinsley yells, and just like that, the woman in front of me moves.
I step slowly around her and walk toward my apparent savior. She pushes the chair out across from her with her foot, and slowly I lower myself into it without removing my messenger bag.
“They don’t bite, you know.”
“Some of them do,” I say without thinking and she smiles. It’s both amused and wolfish and really freaking hot.
“See, if you use that kind of attitude, I bet you’d do much better when it comes to trying to get your way.”
She startles a laugh out of me, and I don’t even care that I’m blushing. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“Well, just takes some practice. Everyone can use a little work. Clark Kent, remember?”
“Practice, sure. Yeah, I’m the kind of guy who likes to practice. I must have misplaced my Superman shirt.”
“Practice makes perfect. And we all need to start somewhere.”
“Yeah, but it’s different. You are practicing on the soccer field, and I just need practice with basic social interaction.”
“Checking up on me, are you?”
“You’re hard to miss.”
“Oh, I’m flattered,” she says, dramatically placing her palm against her ample chest. “What are you doing today?”
“Heading back to my apartment to work.”
“Only ventured out for a caffeine fix, hmm?”
She snatches my cup off the table and reads the label before taking a sip and sighing dreamily as she sets it back in front of me.
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with how fast our relationship is progressing today,” I deadpan and frown at my cup. “Also, why are you always so nice to me?” She’s not surprised by my question. Her answering smile is soft and sincere.
“I got the wrong coffee,” she says, defeated. “I was feeling adventurous and it was a fail. You know how it goes.”
“No, can’t say that I do.”
She smirks but otherwise ignores me. It’s honestly fascinating that I have no problem talking to Kinsley Dane.
“To answer your other question, I have no reason not to be,”—she lifts one shoulder and lets it drop—“and I learned a long time ago that kindness goes a long way.”
It’s not the answer I expected, but I appreciate it more than she could possibly know. Kindness isn’t something that I’ve encountered much in Nashville. When I originally relocated here, I thought it would be a fresh start.
But besides being holed up in my apartment, I haven’t seen much of the city, and the parts that I have, I haven’t been impressed with. What’s worse is I have no desire to move again, so this is it for the foreseeable future.
“Despite your aversion to practice, I think that’s exactly what you need, Roy.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think that we could help each other.”
“I could help you?” I ask in disbelief.
“We all need help with something, Roy.” I narrow my eyes.
“It’s not illegal, is it?” She grins and I want to be caught in this moment forever, her smile doing something to me that I can’t quite explain. “Say I believe that you need help. What are we looking at?”
“Well, I’d rather not talk about it here.” My heart ratchets up a notch. I’ve never had a woman in my apartment. Not in this one, at least.
My dorm room, yes.
Apartment? No.
“So…” I hedge as I switch my coffee cup with hers and take a sip. Her eyes sparkle as I process the flavor—almond, maybe? It’s not what I wanted but also not terrible.
“I’m free now,” she says, taking a sip of my drink and grinning at me over the lid. “We can walk back to our building, and I’ll order some Chinese food and we can talk about it.”
“You want to get Chinese food and talk in your apartment?”
“We’re going to have a really long day, Roy, if you’re going to just repeat everything I say.” Her underlying sass is there, but it’s more companionable than it is snarky. It’s teasing and real, unlike the voice she used when she dealt with the girls near the mailbox when we’d first met.
“Now?”
She smiles. “Already anxious, are you?”
“I’m always anxious. It’s part of my charm.”
She snorts, pushing her chair back and grabbing my coffee. “Well then, Roy, let’s go.”
I stand and follow her, my messenger bag banging into some of the empty seats as we pass. I’m startled by the fact that she’s even walking with me because I’ve seen the guys she dates.
She’s much more likely to be seen with some football star or wide receiver or rock star or something else. Hell, even her bodyguard is more her type than I am. But here she is, acting casual.
Like she’s got nowhere else to be.
I don’t know much about being with a woman, but I do know that you’re supposed to open doors. Hustling around her, I push it open. She smiles as she passes me, placing her hand gently against my chest. It lights something up inside me, something that I swiftly ignore. She didn’t mean it like that.
I know that she didn’t.
It’s just harder to remember that when her perfume is seducing me just as much as she is.
She waits for me to join her in the crisp December air, before hooking her arm into mine. I don’t know what to do, but she helps me, arranging my hand in the pocket of my coat and smiling as she does it. She pats my chest again, and I don’t mind the contact.
We walk in silence, and it feels good being with Kinsley like this—natural—but as we approach our building, reality comes crashing down and I can’t just be along for the ride.
Pulling her to a stop, I wait until we’re alone. “Kinsley, what do you want?”
“I want to be your dating coach.”