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“Oh,” I say, clearing my throat. “Maybe you’ll meet a nice woman here then.”
Maybe he’s already met her.
Again—what the fuck?
Since Eric broke my heart, I’ve never been the same again. I don’t trust like I did, and like Christina says, I’ve become cynical. Both men and women get their hearts broken every day, and they still love again, so I don’t know why I’ve found it so hard to handle. I loved him so much, with the very essence of my being, and now I’m scared to love again. It means giving my power away, and I’m not ready to do that. When Eric cheated, my whole mindset changed. When he got the woman he cheated with pregnant, and married her, my whole world exploded. After I’d invested years into us, planning for the future, I suddenly had a fresh start I never asked for or deserved. And now? Some people think I’m cold, but I’m not.
I’m just careful with who I let in.
The men I’ve dated casually since him have been gentler, softer men. Regular men, slightly on the boring side, more safe than anything. The problem with that? They can’t seem to hold my attention. I don’t claim to be a prize of any kind. I’m pretty, not amazing; I’m smart, not magnificent. I’m a good woman, or at least I was. My heart is still good, it’s just a little bruised. It beats the same though.
I’m sure the old me is still in there somewhere. The romantic. The woman who thought she was going to be with one man for the rest of her life. I wanted the big wedding, the white picket fence, and the two-point-five children. I wanted it all. And now? I don’t know what I want. I’m single, childless, and running the café, still stuck in my hometown. I’m not where I thought I’d be, but maybe this is where I’m meanttobe. Eric may be gone now, but his memory still lingers, like a poison in my veins. The local bad boy, the one I thought I’d tamed, rode off on his motorbike without me. I’m still here, though. I was left behind to pick up the pieces, and I have.
I thought I’d buried my craving for men like Eric, the strong, mysterious, badass kind, but I guess I’m not as smart as I think I am, because there’s nothing I’d like to do more than talk to this man. I want to find out everything about him. I want to ask questions with no restrictions. I don’t want to bite my tongue. I want to discover who he is. I want to know why he’s caught my eye.
Sylar—the man before me—is not a safe man.
“I don’t know about that,” he murmurs, then looks me in the eye. “Brielle.”
I smile. He remembered my name. And my full name, not the nickname everyone calls me.
He picks up the tray on the counter, and places the ten-dollar note back on the table.
“Have a good day,” he says, ducking his head before I’m able to say it first, leaving me with a smile on my face. I watch him exit, taking him in from his thick head of hair to his broad shoulders and narrowed hips. He has dressed a little better today, his clothes more fitting. He definitely has a good body under there. I look through the window and watch as he gets into his truck and drives off.
“Caught in the act,” Christina says as she walks in, smirking.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I murmur, grabbing a cloth and wiping down the counter.
“You were totally checking creepy hot guy out,” she says, coming to the counter as a customer would. “You have weird taste, you know that? He looks like he could be a Viking or something.”
“Is that meant to turn me off?” I ask her, wrinkling my nose.
She laughs and says, “No, I guess not. So what’s the next move? Wait until he asks you out for a drink?” She laughs harder, then adds, “Should I warn him that you don’t like doing day dates?”
My cheeks heat as she pulls up a fact I’m not exactly proud about. For first dates, I’m a little picky. Sitting through a lunch with someone you just met can be awkward, as is trying to eat, chat, and look hot at the same time, so I prefer evening or night dates. It’s less pressure, and I can order tequila without looking like an alcoholic.
“Remember when that Dave guy asked you out for coffee on that dating app, and you freaked out and deleted the whole app?” she says, throwing her head back and laughing. “Oh God, that was hilarious.”
“That was the first date I was going to go on after Eric,” I say defensively. “Of course I freaked out! I’d never really dated anyone else.”
She stops laughing, trying to contain herself, but her twitching lip gives her away. “Yeah, but on the weekend before, we went to that male strip club and you licked that stripper’s abs.” She pauses for emphasis. “In public.”
I laugh with her this time, remembering the night she is referring to. “I blame it on the tequila.”
“You’re hilarious, Bree,” she says, wiping a tear that escapes her eye. “If creepy hot guy asks you out for a day date, what are you going to say? Dates involving alcohol only?”
“It sounds so bad when you say it like that,” I mutter under my breath. “And it’s not like I’m meeting a random guy from online. I’ve already met and spoken to him. And you’re acting like this is a done deal! There’s no way he’s going to ask me out. He barely talks to me.”
“We’ll see,” she says, then walks around the counter just as a group of people walk in.
There’s nothing wrong with needing a little liquid courage every now and again.
