Page 76 of Healer’s Betrayal

“I feel amazing. So amazing, I’m going to eat two waffles.” Noah’s eyes widen in disbelief, and I ruffle his hair once more before leaving to go get coffee. I see the coffee bar and nearly groan in relief. If I’m going to function today, I really need coffee. I grab a cup and put it up to the carafe. But when I push the handle down, there’s no coffee. I resist the urge to groan out loud, barely. Desperate, I try the decaf. It’s empty too. I stare at the two coffee pots and wonder if this is how my day’s going to go. “Nope,” I say to myself, turning around. I’m not going down that negative path today. I look around and find an employee mopping the floor a few feet away. “Excuse me,” I say, approaching him. “The coffee pots are both empty,” I say, pointing over my shoulder.

He scowls at me. “Does it look like I do the food or coffee?” He looks down pointedly at his mop.

“Oh.” I take a step back. “Okay. Thanks.” I head over to the kitchen and look for somebody that could help. Finally, a lady steps out of the kitchen. “Good morning,” I say brightly. “The coffee pots are both empty. Is it possible to get them replaced?”

“Oh goodness. Thanks for telling me. I’ll replace them right now.”

Relief fills me. “Oh, great. Thank you.” I walk back over to the coffee area. While I wait, I open a pack of stevia and tip the contents into my cup. When I look up, I notice the guy with the mop pretty much leering at me. I smile, and he glares at me. I wonder what in the world I did to make him hate me so much. I open a few cups of creamer and pour them into my cup. I chance another look over at the man and see he’s mopping but very much still angry at me for some reason. Suddenly, there’s a tall presence at my side. “Jackson,” I say, looking up at him. I notice his eyes aren’t on me; they’re over my shoulder. I know exactly what or who, I should say, he’s looking at. “I’m not sure what I did to make him hate me so much,” I say quietly.

“He needs to stop looking at you that way,” he says in a loud enough voice that I know the guy had to have heard him. I don’t turn to face him; I really don’t want to attract any more negative attention. Trying to get Jackson’s attention back on me and not the creep with the mop, I lift my cup. “I’m just waiting on coffee.”

He finally glances down at me. “I see that.”

“Are you a coffee drinker, Jackson?” I ask, suddenly curious.

He leans forward and sniffs my cup and frowns. “Yes, but without all that stuff in it.”

I roll my eyes. “That stuff is vanilla creamer and sweetener.” I shake my head. “I’ve never understood how people drink coffee black.”

“That’s how normal people drink it,” he says in return.

“Nope. Not true. Most people don’t drink their coffee black.”

He stares down at me. “Yeah? Prove it.”

I lift my chin. “I will.” I see the woman from the kitchen wheeling a cart with fresh coffee carafes our way. “Thank you so much,” I tell her as soon as she replaces them. “By the way,” I ask her before she leaves. “Do you drink your coffee black or with cream and sweetener? We’re having a disagreement about it,” I say pointing at Jackson.

“Oh with cream and sugar definitely,” she says with a smile.

I grin and give Jackson a triumphant look. “See? That’s how normal people drink coffee.” She laughs and walks away.

“We’ll see.” He doesn’t say anything more, and I figure the subject is dead. I grab an empty cup and fill it with hot, fresh coffee and then put a lid on it and hand it to him. He looks at me in surprise. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I finally fill my cup, add a little more creamer and then put a lid on it. My first sip is totally worth it. I close my eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Letting it hit my bloodstream,” I say without opening my eyes. He chuckles, and my eyes fly open. I take in the small smile on his face and the humor in his eyes, and my breath catches in my throat. I manage to smile back, so I don’t look like a total creep.

“Do you want to grab a plate of food?” he asks.

“Oh, no. I'm good.”

He frowns. “You need to eat.”

I lift my cup. “I have coffee.”

“That’s not breakfast.”

I nod. “Nope. It’s coffee.”

“You need food to balance out the coffee, so you don’t get sick.”

“Is that why I get sick every morning?” I can’t help messing with him.

“Yeah, you need—” he catches himself when I grin and scowls. “I’ll get you a plate.” He turns and walks away.

“Wait, I don’t want anything.” I hurry to catch up to him and nearly run in to Sage.