his appearance, I’d say he’s a baseball player. Having a dad who used to coach college baseball, I know my baseball teams and can pick a baseball player out of any lineup. “Ah, well, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”
Righting my bag on my shoulder, my cheeks heat with the slightest pink. I have no idea why either. Maybe because he’s staring at me, or the fact that a kid bought my coffee because I couldn’t. “And that is?”
Leaning in, he gives me another whiff of that delicious scent he’s wearing. “Having it all together is overrated.” He squints at the rain pelting our faces. “Some of the most brilliant minds in the world are a shitshow.”
“I’m a genius then.” I laugh, my focus on my van and the fact that I’m twenty minutes late to open my shop. “I have to go.” I nod to the parking lot. “But thanks again… for helping me out.” I want to ask him for his phone number to repay him, but I’m pretty sure if I do, he’s going to think I’m hitting on him. So I say, “Next time I’ll buy,” and hope like hell that doesn’t sound idiotic. To be safe, I repeat it in my head again. Did it sound stupid?
I’m thinking not by the expression on his face. It’s somewhere between what I imagine a college kid would make hoping to score with a MILF. I’m not saying I’m a MILF, but if I were… oh, who gives a fuck. He looks fucking happy, okay? Good. We’re clear that he wants there to be a second buying of coffee.
“Anytime, Sydney,” he says, my name rolling off his tongue with ease and swagger. He’s confident, that’s for sure. And then he winks, as if his college boy charm would work on me.
Spoiler alert: it does. Sadly.
“Interesting drink choice,” he notes, trying to extend the conversation, I assume.
My eyes land on the drink in my hand. “I like my cream with coffee,” I note and then regret it. Fuck, why’d I say that? The cream on top has been slowly mixing with the rest of the drink. I glance at it, tipping the cup. If you know, you know. I’m just going to come out and say it.
But for those of you who are scratching your heads about now and thinking what the fuck is she talking about, I’ll clear it up. When you mix cream with coffee in a clear cup, it reminds me of that scene in American Pie when the dude comes in the beer.
I shrug and tip my cup towards his. “And yours is kind of boring,” I tell him, with no amount of shame.
His eyes soften in the most adorable way. You can literally see the sincerity in him. He’s a nice guy. Obviously, he bought my coffee. “I’m not overly adventurous.”
“So buying me coffee is the highlight of your week?”
“Try month.” He leans in, winking. “Maybe year.”
Our eyes lock, and I swear on all the half-eaten chicken nuggets in the back seat of my van, electricity hums between us. I take a step back. Or maybe I was humming. No, no, I was tsking him. “Okay, boy, I realize you might be into the whole cougar thing, but I’m married.”
He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, grinning. “He doesn’t have to know.”
Oh my God. “Aren’t you late for school?”
“No, not really. I got time. Your seats fold down in the back of that van?”
Is he serious? I can’t tell. What do you think? I arch an eyebrow. “Who says I drive a van?”
“Lucky guess?”
The kid he’s with laughs, shaking his head. Though his attention the entire time has been on his phone, I know he’s been listening to this. “We’re late, Reins.”
I slide my eyes back to Cason, the one intently waiting on my words. “Yeah, I drive a van.” Stepping away completely, I raise my cum cup again. “Thanks for the drink.”
“Like I said, anytime.”
Smiling, I make my way to my van, dodging raindrops, and a stream of water in the parking lot. Cason Reins. I know his name now, and I’ll probably Insta-stalk him later. The thought reminds me that my phone isn’t working.
Inside my car, I try my cell phone again. This time I get a representative that asks me if I’d like to reinstate my service by paying my bill. What the fuck? Really?
As I sit there trying to figure out if I’m a victim of identity