Page 3 of Bond To The Alpha (Fated Bond #1)
LIANA
There's a kind of anonymity in crowds; it’s like a camouflage of sorts. That’s why I’m here, sitting amid clattering trays and chatters just like any other face in the sea of students at the cafeteria. The noise should be overwhelming to me, but I find it somewhat comforting.
The zipper of my lunch bag sticks, as usual, and I have to yank it a bit harder than necessary to get it to budge. I made some quinoa and roasted vegetable salad from the leftover ingredients my boss let me take home from the restaurant where I work—not something I particularly liked, but it was still a far cry from the bland sandwiches I always pack for lunch, which is because I can't afford the food they serve at the school cafeteria or any of the meal plans.
My cooking is not that great, and even though I grew up having to make my own food and technically should have a lot of experience in it, I’m still no master chef. The quinoa is a bit overcooked, I notice, as I spear the mushy concoction with my fork. I'm about to take the first bite when I feel an involuntary leap in my stomach that makes me look up from my plate.
My brain screams "Not again" even as my heart skips a beat.
"Hey," Kane smiles at me, approaching my table.
Without waiting for an invitation (not that I'd give him one), he pulls out a chair and sits down. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks, spreading through my body like wildfire. I'm fighting it so hard that I think I might gag.
I thought I made my intentions of not wanting to be near him clear when I rejected him in public yesterday.
My hand quickly reaches for the lid, and I’m going to cover my food.
But Kane stops me by the wrist with his spark-like touch, looking unrelentingly at me as he says, "I didn’t come here to sit by myself, did I?”
“Let go of me,” I say firmly, looking down at his hand still clenching around my wrist.
Kane obediently loosens his grip on my hand, and apologizes with a rueful chuckle. “Sorry about that.” And I unknowingly notice how his Adam's apple bobs up and down when he talks.
He looks from my face to the food on the table.
“Oh, quinoa salad. My favorite,” he chimes, and the next thing I know, he’s picking up my fork and digging into my lunch. I, on the other hand, am too stunned at what’s happening within these 60 seconds of him arriving here, to even stop him.
What’s wrong with this guy?
Kane takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully.
His face changes mid-chew at first, but then he smiles again, swallowing before he speaks,
"Whoever made this is an amazing cook. I could eat it all."
I roll my eyes inwardly.
Amazing cook, my foot.
"Was that a smirk?" Kane asks as he points the fork at me in amusement.
This is when I realize I’ve been smiling while watching him try to get that one bite of overcooked plus a-bit-saltier-than-needed quinoa down his throat. I quickly shut that smirk back into a neutral face, now looking around awkwardly. Yeah, this is definitely my last sign to get going before people start boring holes in my direction.
"Bon appétit,” I reply sarcastically, grabbing my bag quickly, and making a hasty exit from that table.
That was my favorite lunchbox, but oh well.
By the time I get outside the doors, I’m breathing heavily like a drowning woman finally breaking the surface. My lungs burn, and I realize I've been holding my breath since I left Kane at the table. I’m not sure if the rush to get away is the reason my heart is racing so much, or the lingering effect of his presence.
I turn back at the large windows of the cafeteria, and my eyes are automatically searching for him.
I can still see my abandoned table. Kane isn’t there anymore, however, and my sad little lunchbox is still sitting forlornly on the tabletop. There’s no way I’m going back in there now — I'll have to add the cafeteria to my list of places to avoid on campus.
I'm running out of safe havens, I think, and I can’t tell if I mean places on campus or places in my heart where Kane has already made his mark.
??????
Consciousness crawls back into my bones as I roll around in the bed, before finally opening my eyes to stare blankly at the ceiling and wait for the sleep to wear off.
Is that Kane's face I see materializing above me?
The hallucinated image vanishes as quickly as I blink my eyes, sitting up with a groan. That’s an obvious effect of having someone on your mind just because you’re actively avoiding them. I rub my eyes with one hand, patting for the wristwatch beside my pillow with the other.
I bring the watch in front of my face.
"Oh no!" I squeal, at the same time leaping out of bed.
Coming home to enjoy some two hours of nap before my shift must not have been such a great idea because now I’m over half an hour late. But I know I needed that short sleep so bad. I’ve not been having enough time to sleep well for the past couple of days due to pulling constant all-nighters at the library, just so I can get access to the learning resources I need when no one would be bothering me. Now I’m scrambling to get ready in record time as I throw on the first clean-ish clothes I can find, drag a brush through my hair, and pray that no one looks too closely at me. Three minutes and some seconds later, I'm out the door and racing to work.
It starts to drizzle on my way there. So I have to dash through the back door of the restaurant a bit drenched, and one look at my manager's face tells me that my unimpressiveness to him has increased even further.
"I'm so sorry," I start to apologize, but no one cares. The manager walks out on me with a scowl, and the girl I'm supposed to be relieving throws her apron at me before leaving too.
"I'll have the house special, please,” I soon hear, as I’m still clumsily tying the apron strings behind the counter.
The moment my head snaps up, I’m staring into Kane's blue eyes.
No way he actually found me here.
It’s not even been six hours since the cafeteria encounter. As shocked as I am to see Kane, I’m also not that surprised. It's a small town, after all, and someone like him could easily track me down if he wanted to. And I know it isn't a coincidence that he is here, in this small, unpopular restaurant where I work, that too, around the time of my shift. Still, I try to compose myself and let my customer service smile slide into place. It’s not like I can afford to be unprofessional and risk losing the only source of income I have at the moment.
"Of course, sir. Would you like any sides with that?"
The amused twinkle in his eyes shows he’s enjoying my forced politeness.
"Just a side salad, thanks. And maybe a smile that doesn't look like it hurts?" he answers, smirking.
I ignore his last comment and focus on getting his order down.
"Please take a seat, and we'll bring your order out shortly."
Just before he turns to find a seat, he throws me a wink that catches me off guard. I make sure I don’t allow a single flutter to fly in my stomach. Then I head to the kitchen to hand in the order slip since his order in particular has to be made off the service counter.
“ I know for sure I’ll die if he spares me one glance...” says a voice behind the kitchen door.
I hear squeals and giggles as the other girls continue to make comments about Kane and I roll my eyes skyward. These are the kind of people Kane should be bothering instead, not me.
"Table 7," I interrupt flatly, slapping the slip down.
The girls immediately start squabbling.
"I'll take it to him!"
"No way, I’m taking it.”
I shut the door behind me, muffling their arguments again as I return to my duty post. I’m not sure Kane even ate his meal because he was soon back to my spot.
“That‘ll be $15.30,” I note either way, handing him the bill.
Kane's eyes never leave my face as he pulls out his wallet, takes out some cash, and slides it over the counter. I move over to the register to process the payment, but by the time I look back up from what I’m doing, there’s no one in front of me anymore, except for customers eating quietly at their tables. I take back the change, also picking up the bill I’d handed him earlier on, noticing there’s something scrawled over it with black ink:
‘Green looks good on you.’
The work uniform I put on is blue, and the apron is red, matching the color of the cap on my head.
But then I turn around and stare at the closed door to the changing room where I’d left the green dress I got drenched in earlier. Then I stare back at the note, quickly crumpling it in my fist. But for some reason, instead of discarding it, I smooth out the paper again just to stare at his messy handwriting. It was funny and admittedly cute that something that looked this ugly belonged to Kane when he looked the complete opposite.
I’m…smiling…
Smiling?? Liana!
"What's that?" my manager asks behind me, making me jump.
"Nothing," I quickly throw the paper away. Shouldn’t have given it the light of day anyway.
The clock finally ticks over to the end of my shift, and I’ve never been more eager to hang up my apron. There, leaning against his car in the dark parking lot, is Kane, when I reach outside. Why is he still here? I can’t believe I have to encounter him for the third time today.
"Look, can you stop following me or going after me? And stop waiting around here for me. It’s so uncomfortable,” I confront Kane outside.
Kane breaks into a snigger, hands in his pockets. "Who says I was waiting for you?"
I let out an audible sigh of exasperation through my nose, brushing back a handful of my hair.
"Fine, It’s you I’m hanging around for. And so fucking what? I'm not allowed to see or talk to the girl who is my mate and can’t seem to get my mind off?“
It’s like the faster he talks the quicker my heart is racing.
“No, you’re not allowed. I'm sure you know a lot about me and my background, so let's not draw each other back on that. You and me, there's nothing good that can come out of it. Just leave me be.” I clap my hands together above my head before turning on my heel.
"We'll see about that!" Kane yells confidently after me.
I really do want to see ‘about that.’
Maybe, a voice in my head whispers, just maybe I don’t want him to give up after all.
Every time I make myself clear that I’m not interested seems to be when his determination reaches new heights because over the next couple of weeks, Kane starts to become very hard to ignore. He shows up during every single one of my shifts, and each time, he would leave a note on the bill. Sometimes it's just a few words, other times it's longer, but they're always about me.
"I think you should wear your hair down tomorrow,” says one.
"I love the way you scrunch your nose when you're concentrating," says another.
"Has anyone ever told you how cute you look when you're annoyed?"
It soon becomes a routine: He arrives, I serve him with as much professional detachment as possible, and he leaves behind these little paper breadcrumbs of his so-called affection. I hate how I've started to look forward to a new note from him every time I leave for work. I often find myself wondering what he'll write next. His frequent visits have also increased sales here because more girls keep coming because they want to have the chance to meet Kane, and I would be deceiving myself if I say I’m not jealous.
But all of this soon stops very abruptly. For a whole week, there's no more sign of Kane. There’s no one sitting at table 7 and there’s none of those handwritten notes I like to secretly smile at before discarding in the trash. I tell myself to be relieved; that this is what I wanted all along, but I can't deny how disappointed I feel every time the door swings open and it's not him walking through it. I hate that I miss his presence, his words, his face, and his attention. Even at school, I don’t sense him around me anymore. Also, sales have pretty much returned to how they used to be before you-know-who started frequenting.
It's better this way, I guess.
Maybe he’s finally given up and moved on to someone without my baggage of complications.
"I dreamed of you last night."
It’s the last note he left me. I rescued this one from the bin 8 days ago, for some reason. I skim the rough surface of the paper with my finger, tapping my other fingers idly on the counter like I’m expecting something to happen.
"Desperately waiting for me, I suppose?"