Each time I considered returning here since the break-up, tears would prick my eyes, and I couldn’t bring myself to face it. But now, I refuse to let his absence keep me from enjoying my Wednesday morning treat. I refuse to let his memory taint the place that once brought me peace and comfort. It might be where we first met and where our chapter began, but I get to decide how the story ends. I’m writing an entirely new book, and I won’t let sadness in.
The bell above the threshold chimes as I enter the café. I head to the counter, where I can’t help but ogle the display cabinet. I’m cloaked in the intoxicating scent of freshly baked pastries. The smell of buttery croissants, muffins, and Danishes fills the air, and my mouth waters.
I place my usual order and sit by the window, pastry in hand, to enjoy the lovely view of the gardens. After setting my handbag down, I pull out my latest romance novel and settle in to make the most of my morning.
I’m immersed in my book and sipping my coffee when the bell overhead sounds, and I naturally lift my head.
My eyes widen as I take in the striking figure entering the café. I watch as he strides over to the display cabinet, drawing the attention of every female in the room. My teaspoon rattles as I quickly drop my cup onto its saucer. I look around and notice the other women in the café shamelessly ogling him, even those with partners. I can hardly blame them.
His blond waves have grown out and curl at the nape of his neck, just peeking out from underneath a grey woollenbeanie. He’s wearing dark jeans that hug his muscular thighs, Timberland boots, and a plain black T-shirt.
After placing his order, he pulls a guitar pick from his pocket and starts twirling it in his fingers before turning around to find a place to sit. I exhale, trying not to make a big deal of it as his eyes dart around the room before landing on me. My cheeks heat, and I shrink slightly in my chair. For a moment, I’m reminded of the first time I saw Lucas, except James’s presence feels different—more intense, more magnetic.
It appears not seeing or hearing from him for two months has done nothing to curb my attraction and appetite for him.
Fucking great.
My traitorous body is practically purring at the sight of him, and I could slap myself.
It’s sowrong. I never replied to his last message. I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I figured ignoring it was my safest option.
His lips tip in a smile as he walks over to me, and his eyes bore into mine. When he finally stands in front of me, I have to tilt my head up to meet his stare.
“Hey, April,” he says, slipping his guitar pick back into his pocket. Ugh, his deep, resonant voice sends shivers down my spine.
“Hey, James,” I reply, doing everything I can to hide my emotions.
“Do you mind?” he asks, pointing towards the empty chair opposite me.
“Not at all,” I say as I close my book, shifting my bag closer to make room.
He raps his knuckles on the table as he sits down. I wriggle in my seat, my gaze falling to my hands as they hug my warm coffee cup. He leans back in his chair, one arm stretched out on the table. I can feel his eyes still fixed on me.
He clears his throat before speaking. “I haven’t seen you here.”
I look up to meet his emerald stare. “I didn’t know you came here.”
“I never used to.” He leans forward to cross both arms over the table.
“Oh.”
He’s not dressed in his usual work clothes, so it’s hard to believe he’s simply been onsite somewhere nearby.
“I always used to come here, every Wednesday morning,” I say.
“I know.”
The air rattles in my lungs, glancing up at him. “Have you been hoping to bump into me?”
He shrugs casually. “Figured it wouldn’t be the worst thing, seeing you again.”
I blush at his brazen honesty. His words touch me in a way Lucas’s never did, and I can’t figure out why. I’msodrawn to him.
“What are you reading?” he asks, nodding to my book on the table.
“Oh,” I say, surprised by his question. “It’s a romance.”
“What’s it about?” he asks, settling in.
