I’m sure he has a lot to deal with without me asking questions and putting my nose where it doesn’t belong.
Nixon lifts his hand, keys dangling from his fingers. “Forget about something?”
Car, right. Of course he’s here about the car. Not like I expected him to be here for something else.
“Did you manage to get it fixed?”
When he missed the turn to the community center where the previous night—a night that at that point seemed like it had been ages ago—we’d left my car, I didn’t say anything. Nixon only realized it when he left me at my dorm. He tried to apologize but I wouldn’t let him, and when he demanded my keys so he could go and check it out by himself, I protested. There was no way I’d depend on a man, I never have before, and I wasn’t about to start now. Well, until those big blue eyes full of torment turned to me pleadingly.
Give me this. Please. Give me this chance to forget, if only for a little while.
Even thinking about it has me shuddering. I’ve never seen Nixon seem so… lost. So, defeated. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t say no, even I’m not that ruthless. I gave him the keys and left.
I haven’t seen him since.
It’s been five days, not that I was counting or anything.
Liar.
Five days of me wondering how he’s been.
Has he heard from his sister? How is his mom doing?
The questions rolled in my mind over and over, and I couldn’t seem to let them go. I reasoned with myself that it’s none of my business, but it’s like my brain doesn’t care.
“It needed a new starter. Plus, I came to get some coffee. This is still a coffee shop, right?” He gives me that grin of his, and I almost trip over a floorboard.
What the hell’s wrong with you? Geez, Yasmin.
Great, and now I’m talking to myself in second person. What’s next? I knew one day he’d drive me to insanity, but I didn’t picture it like this.
Putting the trays on the counter so they don’t fall down on the floor, I wipe my hands on the apron. “Black, right?”
“You can finish that, you know? And yes, black.”
I lift my brow at him, but do as he said, carefully placing a batch of chocolate muffins into the window with a pair of tongs.
Nixon takes a stool at the counter, carefully placing my keys down, and watches me work.
“Starter, huh? I should have guessed. How bad was it?”
Soft music is playing in the background, and the shop is relatively silent. Just a few customers are scattered around, most of them students with big cups of coffee at hand, books filling the small tables, and headphones on so they can work in peace.
I never understood how people can do that. How do you concentrate with so many distractions at hand? Nope, no way. I need my peace and quiet. The more secluded the place, the better.
“Not too bad.”
Once all the goodies are set and ready, I give Nixon my full attention. “Not too bad?”
“Seventy bucks.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “That seems awfully low.”
I don’t know much about cars, but it can’t be easy or cheap finding parts for an old car like mine, can it?
Nixon shrugs. “Zane helped me. He knows people, and those people might owe him a favor or two.”
Great, now I wasn’t just in debt to Nixon, but also Zane.
I place the cup of coffee in front of him. “You shouldn’t have. I could have taken it to the shop.”
“It’s already taken care of, so deal with it.” His hand covers mine. “Is it so hard to accept people’s help?”
“You tell me.”
Our gazes clash and hold. The familiar burn when his skin touches mine has me inhaling sharply. I want to pull my hand out of his, but he isn’t letting go.
“Touché. That’s actually part of the reason why I came.”
“Okay,” I say slowly. I have a feeling I know what this is about. “What’s up?”
“Can you…” With his free hand he rubs the nape of his neck. If I didn’t know better I’d think he’s nervous, but Nixon Cole doesn’t get nervous. And surely not in front of me.
“Is something wrong?” My heart skips a beat as all the possibilities come rushing to my mind. Maybe his mom is getting worse. Or something happened to his sister. Or maybe…
“No,” he says quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong. I actually wanted to ask you if you could