Amber Lynn

The Last Chance

The first time Terrance Alexander laid eyes on her was an eye-stopping, breath-catching, mind-numbing, real life slow-motion kind of moment. He thought it was as ridiculously cliché as it sounds. He didn't do clichés. In fact, he didn't do the whole night out in a club thing either. At least not in eight years and counting. 

Sometimes being a single young-looking professor was a curse on its own. If he weren't, he'd never have gotten dragged out by his younger colleagues to a club the night of the first day of university. Sure, he could remember a couple wild years when he took advantage of being a college student with no worries in the world besides studying and clubbing, but he would hardly have called himself a party animal even then. Yet there he was at thirty-three years old, and almost one in the morning. He tried to steer clear from drunk students swarming the space, laughing, dancing, making out; he wished he were anywhere else- that is until he spotted her. And like the predictable movies and books he hated described, he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, watching her every move, her expressive face, and mesmerizing laughter. She had been only a few feet away from him, and looked away in response to her name being called. Amber.

That was a beautiful name. It made your head turn. It made you test the sound of it a couple of times before you decide on the best way to say it. Catchy, easy, memorable, mysterious. A name that was the perfect preface to its owner. As the night progressed, he'd sampled her name mentally so long as his gaze remained locked on her, and she knew it. How? Because he couldn't stop looking at her. She caught him and seemed to revel in it. Her eyes and little teasing smile said it all. They spelled it out for him clearly... Step forward. Don't be shy. Come ask all the questions running through your mind, and if you ask nicely, I might just answer. And you know what? Terrance was never one to shy away from a challenge. Turns out, it takes one to know one, because he was already in too deep when he realized that Amber, too, lives for the thrill of a challenge, especially one that came with his name.

The waitress stopped by his table, depositing the cup of black coffee with caramel... yes, fucking caramel. Why? Because Amber decided a black coffee was too boring and predictable for someone like him, so she made it her life's mission to add in caramel whenever she could help it. Now Terrance could never drink black coffee again without the bitterness reminding him of his loss. So he took the damn caramel and he learnt to love it. A cup of vanilla almond latte sat opposite him, Amber's favourite. Maybe it was a mistake to order it. Somewhere in his mind, he thought if he'd ordered it she'd be here sooner, but now the drink will go cold. It might even be spilled at the end of the day. He had no guarantee or confirmation that she'd be here. Of course, it was his fault because he could not even formulate a proper invite.

He would hardly describe the weather as nice. It was dreary and promised rain. The exterior tables remained empty, and the few customers inside chose to sit closest to the fireplace at the center. He chose a table a couple rows away from the hearth, leaving the seat closest to it for Amber. She hated the cold. While he would sweat as a pig when the temperatures raised above the double digits.

Bells dangling at a new arrival and a chair scraping snapped his eyes immediately to the front. She did come. Amber sat before him, rubbing her hands together and looking at the latte set for her like it might come alive and tell her how it got there. She was dressed in a black slightly oversized knit sweater, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. He noticed it was a bit ashier, the ends cut straight to perfection. Maybe she'd gotten it trimmed and coloured? He like it. He liked anything she did with her appearance really, that much couldn't be argued. Although watching her lovely face, he thought she might have lost a bit of weight. Her cheekbones were more pronounced, the space between her cheek and jaw was shadowed, a result of it slightly hollowing perhaps. He almost blurted out the question, "Have you been eating enough?"
While it was a rude, insensitive, and invasive question, it was also out of pure concern and care. It's been months since he last saw her. He knew she graduated, knew she moved to stay with her mom and sister until the latter got used to the new town. He also knew she was back, working on her own fashion line. Xavier could only agree to tell him so much after he'd pestered him with questions. His worry felt well-placed and justified, but maybe it wasn't. Considering the terms they'd ended things on, he was still a douchebag and she probably hated his guts.