Red Shoes, Black Coffee (Red & Black #2)

6 | Ken

Jed

I'm refilling the coffee machine with fresh coffee beans when the guy approaches me.
I lift my head from what I'm doing and glance up at him. He's obviously waiting for me to collect his order, with his elbow braced on the counter and his fingers drumming on the smooth surface. I set the bag of coffee beans aside and move over to where he stands.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Hello." the guy sends me a dazzling smile that I suppose has girls drop their panties in seconds but brings him no such luck with me. "Two blueberry muffins, please."

I nod and type the muffins into the register. "Anything to drink?"

"Anything to drink..." He repeats, then pauses. He glances over his shoulder briefly before turning back to me. "See that girl over there?" he asks, lowering his voice.

I follow his gaze to the far corner of the shop, needing to narrow my eyes to see clearly. I was in such a hurry in the morning that I had left my glasses at home and I didn't have time to put on my lens further into the day. Everything I do now verges on a miracle, considering I can't see further than my palm when I extend my arm. I need to focus in order to make out the girl's silhouette in the dark interior, but I still can see the mane of red hair, even as blurry as it is to me now. My heart speeds up in a second and I suck in a deep breath, trying to stay cool.

She isn't the only person in the world with red hair. During the past year, I mistook way too many redheads for her. Now is the time to end this ridiculous obsession. It doesn't have to be her.

I nod wordlessly, keeping my eyes glued to the girl.

"Well, her name is Ada."

Fuck me.

"And she's my girl."

Fuck me some more.

"Or at least, I want her to be. One day." he grins. I force myself to tear my gaze away from her and focus on the guy, doing all I can to get the murderous look out of my eyes.

"And she sent me here to order something special." The guy goes on, completely oblivious to the storm starting to rise inside of me. He looks annoyingly comfortable here, with his forearm resting on the counter and that confident smile on his face. "And I thought I'd get her this new honey latte of yours. I had it once before and it was amazing so I think it's the best choice."

And I think he should stop talking before I start screaming. Besides, is this guy serious? What self-respecting man orders a honey latte from the girls' choice special menu we have and isn't afraid to speak it out loud? What in the hell is wrong with this guy?

"It was sweet and she's sweet so I think -"

"She doesn't like it." I say before I can stop myself. One of the guy's brows arches and I mentally punch myself for being so reckless. "I mean, she won't like it." I correct myself quickly.

"How do you figure?" He cocks his head to the side, the other brow arching. He looks like an owl, with his big baby blues and that golden hair sticking out as though he had just run his fingers through it. 

"She just doesn't look like someone who'd like something so... sweet." I go for the first explanation that crosses my mind. "You know what they say about redheads and their attitude."

"Oh, but she's different."

My fingers clench the edge of the counter, blocking the urge to hit something. The guy said it like he knew her. I want to tell him he doesn't know shit. I want to make him understand he'll never know her like I do.