A Little Love Collection

Four

"Why the fuck did you yell at her, Alex? Oh right, because you're the biggest prick on this whole goddamn planet!" I say to myself as I pace around my living room.

Why was I such an ass to the woman at the coffee shop? Hannah. She must think I've got major anger management issues. I was just so fricken mad at Chelsea. It's girls like her that make me think that hooking up with girls at the bar is a bad idea. I obviously haven't learned my lesson.

Maybe I should go back and apologize. But I'm Alex Bennett. I don't apologize. Ever. Apologizing is stupid. It's literally confessing that you're wrong about something and that you should take the full blame. And why should I take the blame? It's not my fault that Chelsea is clingier than a koala.

But then I remember Hannah's eyes. Those big, green cat eyes. Full of wonder. Full of confidence. Full of mystery. And those full lips. I would let them meet mine any day.

Okay, I'm going to get my ass to that coffee shop and apologize. How hard can it be?

**********************

"Okay. You got this" I whispered to myself before opening the door to the coffee shop. I am going to apologize to her. I got this. No reason to be nervous. Cool guys apologize all the time. Well no they don't. Okay I'll just apologize when no one is looking. Okay good plan.

I'm greeted with the aroma of fresh coffee and warm baked pastries. It's a Sunday morning and surprisingly not crowded. I immediately make my way over to the register.

I peak over the shoulder of the older man in front of me in attempt to see who's working the register.

She's there.

Oh shit maybe this isn't a good idea. Oh well, too late now.

"Hi uh could I have a mocha latte please?" I don't want to risk getting a raisin covered sock of a latte.

I'm trying to catch something, anything in her facial expression. Anger? Embarrassment? Annoyance? But there's nothing. She looks the same as yesterday.

"Anything else sir?"

Okay apologize. You can do it. Just say you're sorry for being a jerk yesterday. Come on Alex, man up.

"That's all thanks"

Seriously Alex? Way to "man up" dude. So fucking pathetic.

Her eyes meet mine for a second and flicker with an emotion I don't quite catch before returning back to the line of customers.

I bet she thinks I'm an ass. I catch myself staring at her and quickly look away. Why does she look so attractive? She's not wearing anything special or showy. Quite the opposite actually. Her black shirt hangs loosely over her, fitting awkwardly around her body. Her green worn-out apron isn't anything special, but I can't help but notice how it matches her eyes.

"Medium mocha latte!"

I go to grab my drink and place a brown sleeve over it. My eyes flicker back to her quickly before I guiltily leave the café.

The cold air instantaneously whips across my face as I step outside. This is the first time I notice how cold it's becoming. It's early November and the sky is covered in grey, dense clouds.

I walk over to a nearby trash can and take a last sip of my latte. I'm about to toss the cup when I look down and see seven digits scribbled across my cup in thick, black sharpie.

Hannah's number.