I can still feel her tight little cunt gripping my cock, her soft body under me. Every curve, every needy sound she made as I was taking her. I was gone before dawn, trying to convince myself it was for the best. Thinking she would forget about me the way I intended to forget her.
Didn’t work.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, stretching until my joints pop. Old habits die hard. I look out the window, scanning the parking lot out front. Still nobody. Just some rusty old pickup and an empty cop car parked up the road. Paranoia’s a bitch, but it’s kept me alive.
I pull on yesterday’s jeans, my boots, grab my hat, my wallet, and keys. I need coffee. I need to see her again, knowing it’s a bad idea, and I damn well shouldn’t.
When I step into the lobby, there’s some teeny bopper sitting at the front desk, humming some pop song, a mess of red curls tied up in some knotted up mess on top of her head, reading one of those trashy romance books with a shirtless dude on the cover.
She glances up, eyebrow cocked. “You’re up early, handsome. Didn’t peg you for an up with the chickens kinda guy.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I grunt, rubbing at my jaw. “The bed is too soft.”
She laughs, the sound too bright and cheery for this early in the morning. “Honey, that bed is the consistency of mashed potatoes. If you want a refund, you’ll have to take it up with the manager, and he’s an asshole. I know. I survived my whole adolescent life with his stupid pranks.”
I snort. “Yeah? Does he look anything like you?”
Savannah grins, popping her gum. “He wishes. Are you heading out already?”
“Coffee run,” I grunt, already halfway to the door. “Do you want anything?”
She leans in, whispering, “Bring me a cinnamon roll, and I’ll forget you came in past midnight.”
I snort. “Extra icing or plain?”
She grins, waving me off. “Surprise me, tough guy. Now go before I put you on cleaning duty.”
I give her a salute, and step out into the cool, crisp morning, the chill biting at my skin. The walk to The Cozy Corner is short, just a couple blocks away. Enough time to tell myself I should turn back.
But I don’t.
Crystal Falls is just waking up…kids on bikes, old men arguing over the best fishing spot, the smell of clean mountain air.
I keep my head down, but my eyes are on a swivel, scanning the street. Old habit. Always on the lookout for trouble, always expecting it to find me. My past and current life isn’t the kind that stays buried. There’s a reason I can’t put down roots anywhere, and a reason I’m always on the move.
But as soon as my gaze lands on The Cozy Corner’s neon sign, my gut twists. It’s one of those good kind of feelings, but bad, where it feels like your insides are all tangled up. I shouldn’t go in there. I should turn around, keep walking. But I’m a glutton for punishment and open the door anyway, because I’m a stupid, stubborn bastard and because I need to see her, even if it’s just for a minute.
The place smells like coffee, fried potatoes, and cinnamon. Aubrey is standing behind the counter, laughing at something some old man is saying, her hair pulled back, face flushed. Fuck, she looks good…even hotter than I remembered, and that’ssaying something. My brain starts shuffling through the images from that night: her lips parted, the way her soft, curvy body arched beneath me. I shift in my seat, adjusting the stiffness straining in the front of my jeans, my jaw tight.
She glances up, and when she spots me, I swear she recognizes me by the way her eyes go wide. She hides it fast, but I see it…the way her cheeks flush. No matter how hard she tries to play it off, she fucking remembers.
Good.
She should.
I pick the booth in the back, the one with the best view of both doors. Again, old habits. I never sit with my back to an open room. When you spend enough time looking over your shoulder, it ingrains itself in your being.
Aubrey’s busy, but she eventually makes her way over, pad in hand, gaze landing everywhere but on my face.
“Hi. Welcome to The Cozy Corner. Are you new in town, or just passing through?”
I let my lips twitch, just a bit. “I just needed a place to land for a minute.”
Her gaze drags over me, like she can’t decide if she wants to crawl across the table or bolt out the back door.
“You want coffee?” she asks, tone casual, but her eyes anything but. “It tastes like shit, but strong. Gets the job done.”
“Sure. Surprise me.”
