Page 3 of Hughes (Shifter Dating App)

3

HEIDI

T he cold plastic glass tight between my fingers, I slurp from my tea. Half a croissant is gone, and my guts are driving me crazy. I can’t wait to draw the fox. The urge is so strong I’ve been studying the form I’ll use on the back of a napkin. The other croissant is definitely going into a paper bag and I’ll eat on my way back home.

The pencil I always carry trembles in my hand as I draft the furs of his chest. A strange shiver ripples down my spine, as if someone had blown into my ear. Goosebumps cover my flesh, even if the day’s hot. I look up, my brows furrowing as the bell above the door rings.

A man walks in. It’s only supposed to be a man. A stranger, someone I’ve never seen. But he sets off all kinds of warnings inside me.

I know him. But I don’t. A gasp leaves me as my gaze rakes down his muscular body. He’s much older than me if his gray hair tells me something. Strands that look infinitely smooth pile up on the top of his head. His beard is full, white, and well kept. A pair of the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen lock with my face.

It’s him. Who? I don’t know.

Wow, he’s handsome. My jaw slackens as I gawk, utterly dazed. Broad shoulders, brawny arms, he’s what I think the silver fox of my dreams would look like as a human.

silver fox.

Him. No. What?

My brain slows, and it takes me a moment to notice I’m staring. With my mouth open.

As time runs back to its normal rate, my cheeks bloom with heat. God, I’ve been staring. A girl like me, the artist with her mussed hair and the size twenty-two shirt. The twenty-five years old virgin who has never even had a boyfriend. It’s ridiculous.

He shifts, and shame slams into me. He noticed it. Of course he did. Who wouldn’t?

I look away, my eyes wide as I fumble with my wallet and purse, wrapping the extra croissant in a napkin and thrusting it into my purse. Screw it all, I’m not asking for a paper bag. I need to get out of here. I will deal with the crumbs later. Once I’m not caught staring at someone way over my league.

Munching at the croissant I have been eating as fast as I can, I jump to my feet, the chair screeching behind me.

“Oh, already leaving, Heidi?” Charlie calls from behind the counter. I drink my tea so the croissant’s able to slide down my throat.

“Yeah, I need to go,” I stutter out, pathetically, as I sling my purse over my shoulder. Too late, I notice my drafts spread over the table. I turn to wad them into a pile, wanting to shove them into my pants or the trash bin or, I don’t care. I just need to leave.

The look this man has just given me is making me feel strange things. Down my very being. In places I’ve never felt. And I know it’s a mix of my very active imagination with my loneliness. But I imagined he looked at me with something bright and affectionate. A look he would never direct to a person he doesn’t know.

“All right, see you later then,” Charlie says as I pick the drawings with trembling fingers.

When I turn, too fast, I slam into a wall. My cup collapses, tea spilling from it in a wave that covers me with wasted jasmine. The cold liquid coats my chest, making my shirt adhere to my breasts. What kind of idiot doesn’t notice a freaking wall?

But when I look up, it turns out it’s not a wall.

It’s the handsome stranger.

And I’ve covered him in tea too.

“Oh, no,” I mouth, my voice breaking and failing me.

“It’s all right,” he says, and his eyes are on me, and his voice is hoarse and grave and so freaking hot.

I press the drawings to his chest, trying to reabsorb any of the liquid. It’s useless and my fingers seem to get warm, warmer the more I touch his defined pectorals...

“Sorry, I-,” my voice breaks as I notice what I am doing.

Ohmygod, I’m feeling the man up. I’m so feeling the man up. Someone, please, take me out of here.

As soon as I notice, I jerk away, my bottom hitting the table behind me. It’s a mess, my brain is a muddle as I drop the wet napkins and look up at him. His gaze takes a tour of my body, and I’m afraid he’s judging every inch of me.

Every inch of my now-hard nipples. Dark eyes cling to my chest, and the warmth across my cheeks spreads down my neck. What a ruinous beginning to a morning. And I thought it would be a good day. He opens his mouth to say something, and I don’t think I can handle him calling me a clumsy, silly woman.

So I do the wisest thing and I dash out of the coffee shop. Charlie bids me goodbye and I run into the street, fumbling into my purse for the keys. In a second, my car’s unlocked and I’m jumping inside it like there’s a freaking bomb about to explode. Jaw grinding hard, I flick the key to turn the engine on, staring at myself in the rearview mirror.

What the fuck, Heidi?

My car doesn’t switch on, the engine stalling. Over and over until my face’s warm with mixed shame and rage. Of course this had to happen. It’s freaking karma. I hear the coffee shop’s door opening and shutting. The man leaves, his mouth moving to no sound. It all seems oddly like a dream.

“Heidi!” He calls, and the word hits me with way more heat than it’s supposed to.

My girl parts love how his voice sounds calling my name.

He approaches in slow motion as I try to escape, but it’s no use. The car won’t help me. Pressing my forehead to the wheel, I release a frustrated grunt.

If only I could forget it happened and how he made me feel. If only there was just embarrassment instead of this crazy ache inside me.

His hand lands on the open window and I can feel his eyes on me. His heat next to my arm.

“Heidi.”

And there goes my head spinning. I’m so doomed.