" In which I get my heart broken by the player "
* * *
Blake Harper doesn't do love. He's rude, quiet, brooding, and prefers to be alone. Like all bad boys, he's untamable and unclaimed, but he isn't sure what to do when the girl he sets his eyes on...
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There are two rules before starting my morning. Number one, without my tinto there is no such thing as a good morning and secondly, don't be overly hyper either. I don't know how people do it but when they're energetic and ready for the day I cringe. Unfortunately, Avalon is a morning person.
I groan and sit at the coffee shop table, cutting off her yappy self. Drumming my fingers along to my favorite song, I close my eyes and bob my head along to the few lyrics I can recall. I love my Latin songs but there is something about listening to hopeless romantic songs that sound so tragic it yanks at my heartstrings.
Sighing, I look at Avalon and purse my lips when she stares at me.
" You weren't listening? "
I wince in guilt.
" I'm sorry. I don't do mornings like you do. "
She grins and takes it as a compliment.
" I'll take it as a compliment to boost my ego. But aside from that, what do you want? "
I perk up.
" Do they serve tinto? "
She raises a brow for further explanation. I tisk and roll my eyes.
" Coffee, Avalon. "
Her brows arch and her eyes die.
" Do you have to call it that, though? Couldn't you have used a simpler word? I don't know, like, coffee? " she asked, looking at me like I grew another head.
I frown and blink at her. Goddamn Americans.
" You brew this coffee, American. And for a long period. "
She shrugs and stands up.
" Sounds like normal coffee to me. "
I cut her off in my annoyance and stood up as well to go to the counter to lessen the chances of drinking what these Americans call coffee.
" Are you really this picky about damn coffee? " she asked, curious and annoyed.
I shoot her a dry glance before greeting the tattooed lady behind the counter with a smile. She returns it briefly and I immediately feel unwelcome. Stifling a tight smile, I grip the counter and lean forward. She gradually leans back, like I'm some disease.
" Do you serve tintos? "
She arches a brow.
" Colombia tintos? " I counter again, desperate.
" No, we serve what's on the menu. You did look through that, ma'am? "
I frown and glance at Avalon awkwardly standing there, slight embarrassment seen on her face. Accepting the dreadful truth, I step back and pretend to stare at the large menu board above her head.
