The Right Kind Of Wrong

Chapter 2

I used to go with my mom on errands or stay at the venue all afternoon hoping he'd stop being a dick and show but I'd given up. After, I usually just picked up some De' Coffee and went over to the event center for half an hour before going over to Claire's place.

"Caramel Creme Latte," I said to the cashier, while rifling through my bag for my wallet. "Where is it?" I continued to rummage, looking for my wallet or at least some loose change. Someone got into line so I stepped out of the way so they could order.

I pressed my purse against the counter and my stomach so I could look with both hands. My phone buzzed from my pocket and I pulled it out to see who it was messaging me.

Claire: You still coming over?

Me: Of course why wouldn't I?

Claire: No reason. But you can't stay long I have somewhere to be.

My face scrunched in confusion.

Me: Where?

Claire: Not important. See you in a bit. ;x ♡♡

Where is she going in such a rush?

I didn't have time to investigate as I heard the woman working the counter say, "Caramel Creme Latte?"

I still hadn't found any money, but before I could say anything someone came up behind me. "I've got it." I looked up to see someone handing the girl some money.

I turned to protest but was stopped when I saw who was on the giving end of the money.

It was a boy about my age, maybe a year older, with slightly messy mocha brown hair and stunning jade green eyes. He had a sharp jaw line, and thick curved eyebrows. He was at least 6'3 and tan. He wore maroon converse, faded blue jeans, and a fitting baby blue shirt that outlined every bulging muscle in his abdomen.

I stopped staring when I heard the girl at the counter calling to me. I felt my face get hot as I started to blush.

The boy had a smirk on his face, amused by my amazement and/or embarrassment. I abruptly turned and grabbed the cup from the woman. "Thank you."

I was halfway out the door before I heard the boy say, "I don't get a thanks?"

I stopped and slowly turned to face him and nearly squealed when I realized he was right behind me. I looked down at my cup and twirled the straw around in the drink. "Thanks," I mumbled.

"You're quite welcome...uhm,"

I looked up and narrowed my eyes at him. "I don't think I'm at liberty to tell you that," I stood straighter as I gained more confidence,"I might never even see you again."

"But you could, and I'd like to know your name if we do run into each other again." He seemed so confident with himself while I was still extremely nervous for some strange reason.

"Geneeva," I said, barely audible.

"Justin." He extended his hand to me. Instead of taking it I just looked at him. Did he say his name was Justin? I shook my head. No. No. It couldn't be. He looked nothing like Wilson. He had green eyes, Wilson's eyes were blue. Wilson's face was round and chubby. This guy's jaw line could cut through metal. And no offense to Wilson, but this guy was... GORGEOUS!

I shook my head again to clear my thoughts before taking his still extended hand. A small part of me really hoped he wasn't Wilson's son because a girl should NOT think the things I was thinking about her brother.