I nod, mouthing “okay” to him, and watch as he walks out the door to his patrol car. Even from behind, he’s impressive.
“You didn’t tell me you were friends with Officer Hot Stuff,” Madison teases the moment the door closes.
“We’re not friends,” I lean back in my chair, finally able to relax. “He’s just a customer who was being nice. Besides, someone like that probably has a wife or girlfriend.”
“Never say never, Ali.” Madison grins wickedly. “Did you see the way he looked at you?”
I take a sip of my white mocha, trying to ignore the way my heart is still beating a little too fast. “You’re reading too much into it.”
“Am I?” Madison smirks. “Because he looked at you like you were the only person in this coffee shop.”
Don't get your hopes up. Men like Sawyer Edwards don't go for women like me—women with complicated pasts and trust issues.
But despite my internal warnings, I find myself glancing toward the window, hoping to catch another glimpse of his patrol car.
My phone sits on the table between us, face down. I haven't told Madison about the second text that came last night.
Maybe Sawyer isn't the only one watching me.
Chapter 5
Alice
“Hey,Alice,”Ms.Dianegreets me, meeting me at the front counter. “One white chocolate mocha to go?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” I nod, smiling genuinely. Ms. Diane always remembers my order, which is one of the small comforts of my new life here.
I walk to the side of the front counter when I hear the bell jingle, stepping out of the way so I’m not blocking other customers. My attention drifts to their chalkboard menu, though I know it by heart.
"Well, well, well," a familiar voice says beside me. "What are the odds, Alice?"
No.
I turn. Lance stands there with that smug grin, the one that used to make my stomach turn.
The coffee shop tilts. Or maybe that's just me.
This can't be happening. How can he possibly have found me?
“What are you doing here?” My hands start trembling, but I try to maintain composure so he doesn’t know that he can still get to me.
“Just getting some coffee at my favorite coffee shop,” he says in that mocking tone I remember too well.
“You drove thirty minutes for coffee?” I furrow my brows at him, my voice sharper than I intended.He hates coffee.
“Well, wouldn’t you?” Lance smirks, sliding his hands into his black slacks with false casualness.
There's no way he should know about this coffee shop. He's never met my grandmother, never even been to Pine Hollows. She refused to meet him after the first time I showed up at her door with excuses I didn't believe myself.
“Alice,” Ms. Diane calls, placing my cup with the lid on the counter, waiting for me to take it.
I grasp my cup, my hands still shaking slightly. I’m not saying another word to Lance. I’ve finally been free of him for a year now, and I’m not going to get sucked into whatever twisted game he’s playing.
I turn to leave. His hand snaps out, grabs my forearm. Hard.
"Maybe we should catch up sometime." That practiced smile, the one that used to work on everyone else.
“Yeah, don’t count on it,” I scoff, pulling my arm hard enough to break free from his grip. The familiar feel of his fingers on my skin makes me nauseous.
