Chapter 5
Austin
Startled, I wake up by the sound of my alarm.
When I try to stretch my cramps away, I feel the bed shift and an arm that isn’t mine sliding down my chest. I look to my left and see dark hair. It's too dark to discern the exact shade, but I know who it is. The hand moves slowly toward my nether regions, but I stop it.
“I can’t, I’ve got to go,” I say to the woman I met last night two towns over.
I seem to know everyone in Honey Springs, and I’m not interested in being with any of them. If I can avoid the gossip in my small town, I will. When I feel the need to hook up with someone, I just drive forty minutes—or even an hour—to find a nice lady whose world I can rock, then return to my life the next day. I’m getting too old for this, but I don’t want to settle down, and a man has needs.
The woman stirs, her dark hair falling over her face as she murmurs, “You’re leaving already?”
“Yeah, sorry,” I reply, trying to extricate myself gently from the tangled sheets. “I’ve got things to do.”
Like working, and having a life.
She sighs and rolls over, letting me go. I quickly gather my clothes, pulling them on in the dim light. I can’t help but feel a pang of guilt, but this is how it has to be.
For now, this is the life I’ve chosen, and it suits me fine. Until I find the woman who makes my heart race with just a glance, the woman who will see past my flaws and fears, I’ll continue with my one-night flings. I do want that deep connection, the kind of bond I grew up seeing in my parents, but I doubt it will ever happen. So, I stick to these fleeting encounters. The women I spend the night with know the score—I don’t tell them much about myself because they don’t need to know. They only need to be aware of one thing: I don’t do repeats. And so far, I’ve been having a good time.
Once I’m dressed, I quietly make my way out of the room and head to my car. The drive back to Honey Springs is peaceful, the early morning light just starting to peek over the mountains.
It’s early Monday, and I have to get home, take a shower, and get ready for work. As I pull into my driveway, I take a deep breath and prepare myself. I have to finish one of my bigger projects and I need to be in the correct headspace.
I head inside, the quiet of my house greeting me. I shower quickly, the hot water washing away the remnants of the night before. As I pull on my clothes, a strange mix of feeling good yet empty settles over me. It’s the same every morning—a stark reminder of where I am and the emptiness of what’s still missing.
But for now, I just deal with it. I grab my keys, lock up, and head out, ready to take on another day. First stop, the coffee shop—because, let's face it, I can't function without that first cup.
Can we even call it living if you can’t start your day with a hot, steaming cup of coffee?
I always wonder how people who don’t drink coffee can live without it. I had a friend in the Army who woke up every day with a smile on his face and in a good mood—and he didn’t like coffee. He was always so full of energy, talking a mile a minute.
Meanwhile, I wake up most days cursing the world, wishing I could stay in bed and enjoy my sleep.
Coffee is my lifeline. Without it, I feel like a zombie trudging through the day. I envy people who can wake up naturally, full of energy and ready to face the world. They seem almost superhuman to me. My friend was like that—a rare breed who thrived on sheer willpower and natural enthusiasm.
I pull into the parking lot at work, into the same spot that I always do, and make my way into my office. Once everything is in its rightful place, I go on my daily morning walk to Josy’s Sweet Shop.
Josselyn has the best coffee and pastries in North Carolina. I really don’t know what she puts in them, but it’s like crack. I need to have it every day. It's not that I eat the same thing every day—Josy has a variety of breakfast sandwiches, wraps, and pastries. I try not to eat pastries too often because I need to stay in shape, but some days, a pastry is what my body craves—today is one of those days.
Walking to the coffee shop thankfully takes me less than five minutes, the perfect amount of time to get there before my stomach starts screaming at me.
The morning air is crisp and refreshing, the sun just beginning to peek over the mountains casting a warm glow on the quaint streets of Honey Springs.
Shop owners are getting ready to open, and people are starting to arrive. Passing by the familiar storefronts, I exchange pleasantries with the locals. There’s Mr. Thompson, setting up his bookstore display, and Mrs. Evans, tending to the flowers outside her boutique. The sense of community here is strong, and these small interactions make my mornings even more enjoyable.
Finally, I arrive in front of Josy’s Sweet Shop. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods waft through the air, drawing me in like a magnet. I open the door, and the little bell above it jingles announcing my arrival.
The warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee greets you, instantly wrapping you in a sense of comfort. Since I come here every day, Josy knows exactly what I like to order. The interior is charmingly adorned with round tables, each accompanied by a set of mismatched chairs, giving the space an inviting and unique feel.
Two cozy couches sit near the entrance, inviting patrons to sink into their plush cushions and linger over their drinks. The walls are painted in soft, pastel hues, gilded with delicate floral patterns and whimsical quotes that add to the shop's girly charm.
One wall is dominated by a large bookcase, filled to the brim with an eclectic selection of books. From romance novels to mystery thrillers, the shelves offer something for every reader to enjoy while they sip on their coffee.
Soft, ambient lighting bathes the space, creating a cozy atmosphere that encourages patrons to relax and unwind. The sound of gentle chatter and the occasional clink of coffee cups and saucers adds to the bustling yet serene ambiance of Josy's Coffee Shop.
Josy greets me with her usual bright smile, already preparing my favorite brew. “Morning! The usual?” she asks, her hands deftly working the espresso machine.
“You know it. And throw in one of those chocolate croissants today. I need a little indulgence,” I reply, feeling my mouth water at the thought.
“Coming right up,” she says, winking.
I find a seat by the window, watching the town come to life as I wait. This ritual grounds me, giving me a moment of peace before the hustle and bustle before the day begins. A few minutes later, Josy brings my coffee and pastry to the table, and in her cheerful voice says, “Enjoy, Austin!” then she turns and leaves me to my breakfast.
As I take my first sip of Josy’s perfect brew, I feel the warmth spread through me, waking me up and making me grateful for the little joys in life.
When I am done with my food, I grab my empty cup and paper plate and walk toward the trash can. As I am nearing the trash, a body slams into me, and immediately, I feel hot liquid running down my chest.
Caught so off guard, I mutter, “Fuck!” and jump back from my attacker.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” says the person who just slammed into me. “Let me grab you some napkins,” she says and runs away.
I am rooted to the spot, trying to pull my dress shirt away from my chest. The hot liquid that I now notice is coffee, is soaking through the fabric, and it burns like hell. Damnit. I may as well have walked straight into a boiling pot.
The woman returns quickly, thrusting a handful of napkins into my hands. “I didn’t see you there. I’m really sorry,” she says, her voice shaky and full of genuine concern.
I dab at my shirt, but the napkins aren’t much help. My chest is still burning, and my shirt is a mess. “It’s okay,” I manage to say, though my tone is more annoyed than forgiving.
“Let me help,” she insists, grabbing more napkins from a nearby table, frantically trying to blot the coffee off of me. Her hands are trembling, and she looks mortified.“I’ll pay for your dry cleaning, I promise,” she says, her cheeks turning a shade of pink.
When she puts her hands on my chest, I feel electric currents run throughout my body.
What the fuck is happening?
“Really, it’s fine,” I say, trying to sound more reassuring. “Accidents happen.”
She finally stops, looking up at me with wide, honey brown eyes. “I just started working here today. What a way to make a first impression, huh?”
Despite my irritation, I can't help but smile at her awkward sincerity. When I look up at her face, I notice for the first time how stunning my attacker is. Her beautiful face is framed with long, dirty blonde hair that is partially pulled back. She has a glow about her that keeps me wanting more. And those freckles that spread across her nose in perfect formation make me want to kiss the ones that trail to her full, pouty lips. I suddenly have an urge to bite and suck them, to devour them right here and now.
Get a hold of yourself, Austin.
And then I look back at her eyes and get lost in them. They are like nothing I have ever seen before. We stand there, staring at each other, and I forget for just a moment that we are in the middle of the coffee shop until I hear the bell jingle above the door, notifying us that there is a new customer.
"Really, it’s fine," I say again, trying to focus. "It’s just coffee. No harm done."
She gives a relieved smile, though the embarrassment still lingers in her eyes. "I’ll still pay for your dry cleaning," she insists.
I wave it off, trying to appear nonchalant even though my shirt is ruined. "No need. Just part of the Monday morning excitement, I guess."
This beautiful stranger laughs softly, a sound that makes me feel unexpectedly warm. "Well, I hope the rest of your day is better," she says, her eyes holding genuine concern.
I nod, giving her a reassuring smile. "It will be. Thanks for the napkins."
She smiles back, and as she turns to go back to work, I can’t help but watch her for a moment longer. The look from the back is as breathtaking as the front. Her ass looks nice in those tight jeans; they leave me wanting more. I can imagine eventually finding them on the floor next to my bed.
Jesus, Austin. If you stare any longer, someone will think you’re a stalker.
I am extremely attracted to my attacker. But it's more than that, something about her intrigues me, and I find myself looking forward to seeing her again. I've never seen a woman as beautiful as her, and I don’t even know her name. I look around the coffee shop and see that everyone is minding their business.
Josy is still at the checkout, attending to customers in her graceful and cheery way. I guess she didn’t see how her employee slammed into me, but that’s okay. Seeing that woman just made my day brighter, even though I have to go back home to change my clothes. Hopefully tomorrow I can get her name.
As I leave the coffee shop, the incident lingers in my mind. Her face, her concern, and that brief moment of connection all swirl together, making the idea of tomorrow a bit more exciting. I take a deep breath of the fresh morning air, a smile creeping onto my face despite the coffee stains. With any luck, this won't be our last encounter.