warm and friendly. Receptive. I had nothing to lose and a lot to gain, so I sucked in a deep breath and took a chance.
“Maybe I could repay your kindness with a drink tonight? Maybe dinner too . . .”
My heart rampaged inside my chest as I waited for a response from him. His smile widened, and my chest almost burst, there was so much hope running through it—he’s going to say yes. But then he frowned, turning the bright hope into icy disappointment. “Sorry, I can’t. I just started seeing someone. It’s new, but I really like her.”
I blew out a long exhale. Of course he was seeing someone. Hot men didn’t stay single for long. Especially when they were sweet. Especially when they clearly had good hearts. Because it would have been really easy for him to say he was single and date us both for a while. But he hadn’t. He’d fessed up immediately. And now I was pretty sure I was in love with him.
Trying to hold in my embarrassment at being rejected, I slapped on a smile and told him, “No problem. Thank you for the coffee.” It was at this point that I noticed something about him that I really should have noticed earlier. “Oh, wow . . . your shirt . . . I have the exact same one. That’s my favorite show.”
He looked down at the shirt I couldn’t stop staring at. It was an image from a really obscure anime show that I loved. A show I adored completely on my own, because everyone I knew either hated it or had never heard of it and had no interest in learning more about it. And here he was, displaying his fondness for it on his chest.
“Oh yeah?” he said, looking back up at me. “I rarely meet anyone who knows what this is. Except at anime conventions, of course. Then I get showered with compliments and high fives.” He laughed and shrugged, and I was completely blown away. He went to conventions. He loved anime. He loved my anime. Now I knew I was in love with him.
“I know what you mean,” I murmured. “I go every year, and I always wear my shirt.” Our shirt.
His eyes sparkled as he tilted his head at me. “Huh. Small world, isn’t it?”
Yes. And no. If the world were just a bit smaller, I would have met him when he was single.
The barista suddenly called out the name Jake, and this truly captivating stranger swiveled his head her way. Jake. Thank you, barista. Now I had a name for my fantasies.
Jake turned his head back to me, then stuck out his hand. “That’s me. It was nice to meet you . . .”
He let the sentence trail off with an eyebrow raised. Knowing what he wanted, I said, “Valerie,” then took his offered hand. Touching him sent an unexpected rush of electrified energy through me; I doubted I even needed the coffee now. His skin was the perfect mixture of rough and soft, warm and dry, firm and tender. Being connected to him was intoxicating, and I kind of never wanted to let go.
“Valerie . . .” He smiled as he slowly said my name, like he was savoring it. “Enjoy your coffee. And I hope you feel better after drinking it.”
“Thanks . . .”
Our hands released, and I contained a sigh. I had truly enjoyed touching him, and I couldn’t help but stare at him the entire time he picked up his coffee from the barista. Once he had it, he twisted to me, raised his cup in a cute farewell, and then proceeded to leave the café. My eyes followed him until he was gone, and then I let out the sigh I’d been holding. When I turned back to the barista, I saw that she was still staring after him, and her face looked just as forlorn as mine.
When she finally snapped out of it, she looked over at me, then made a fanning motion with her hand while mouthing, “Oh my God.” I laughed as I nodded an agreement with her assessment. Yes, that man was definitely hot. And sweet, interesting . . . perfect for me. And taken. But at least he’d managed to completely turn my day around. My head no longer hurt, and my stomach no longer ached. I almost felt normal again, and I was positive I would feel amazing once I drank his thoughtful coffee.