The coffee shop was intimate, not small but cluttered like your Grandmother's house. Safe. Warm. Inviting. Filled with comfy couches and chairs, games in corners and on tables, funky art no doubt by students, and the aroma of fresh coffee mix with the smell of used books. The brick walls against the worn leather felt like a cashmere dream.
I lost the will to keep my eye on B and headed for the counter to order a tall non-fat latte with 2 espresso shots. Coffee and I were better friends than B and I. Coffee was there for every all-nighter finishing homework, every closing shift at the theater, every time I scribbled in my journal.
I was waiting on the other end to pick up my coffee when the completely charmless guy from before reaches over me without an excuse me for a coffee stirrer. I step back almost in shock. Is this how people are here.
I folded my arms across my chest, "Well at least you show consistency in how rude you are."
He turned back around sipping his coffee first and placing the stirrer between his lips like a cigarette.
He smirked slightly as the stirrer stayed put between his pale pink lips, "Are you stalking me? It's okay to admit it. You aren't the first."
I scoffed out loud as I heard my name called, "Layla!"
I grabbed my coffee and scanned the room for B who couldn't be hard to find. She was the most overdressed person in the crowed coffee shop. I decided to walk down the narrow hallway to explorer the space instead. She'd turn up eventually. The hallway was long, with private rooms off to each side for meetings or something less creepy than where my mind goes. I peeked in each empty room until a guy holding an acoustic guitar comes out of the last room. He nods as an acceptable excuse me. More than the cocky, tall, tattooed guy I ran into again.
He walked by me slightly bending down over my shoulder, "You're not supposed to be back here. Upper class man only."
I jumped clearly unaware of his presence following me and he slightly laughs to himself, "You'd make a terrible stalker. Guessing you're a freshman?"
I turned around slowly almost unsure of his intentions, "I'm not stalking you. Okay? I'm trying to find my friend."
He leaned against the wall and I finally got an up close and personal view. His toned arms were covered in random tattoo designs like tacos, an upside cross, a cat, diamonds, and quotes.
The rust colored beanie covered most of his light hair that looked like it was growing out as it and most of the odd length hair fell to one side more.
His dark red plaid shirt had the sleeves rolled up, it was unbuttoned in the front, and the white T-shirt he had on under it showed just enough of his tattoo free chest.
He had one ring on his left hand. Some bracelets on both. No piercings that I could see. He was taller than my 5'5" frame by what seemed like a lot.
His vans were beat up once you got up close and personal. How close was he behind me? I felt like I should back up when I noticed the laces dirty and a hole by the rubber sole.
He was one of the sexiest men I had ever seen. Just looking at him my knees felt weak and my mind felt like jello.
Why was I a bad boy magnet? Is it the innocence they want to corrupt? Well bad boy number two is too late.
His eyes felt like they were reading my soul, "Opposite of you? Outgoing? Great ass? She's up front toward the stage."
My face contorted into suspicion, "How do you know that's who I mean? That could be anyone." I rolled my eyes knowing everyone wanted B. Not me. He would be no different. And she would oblige.
YOU ARE READING
The Best Years
Romance* COMPLETED | NOT EDITED * ** MATURE CONTENT ** SAINT College. My one chance to escape. And I ran as far and fast as I could. Straight into the arms of something more dangerous. Oliver. He thinks I'm a good girl. But he doesn't know what I'm runn...