After finishing my drink and recieving multiple goofy grins from Weston, I left the cafe to go home and read a bit until it was close to eight.
I look in the mirror to try and fix my makeup so that my eyes weren't red and puffy from crying.
Why was I crying?
The peasant girl found out about the prince's lies and ran away, eventually getting engaged to another man. But when the prince tried to find her, he found her married and pregnant, breaking his heart and causing him to almost kill himself.
It was truly heart breaking.
But what is even sadder was the fact that I'm due to meet an extremely attractive guy in a couple of minutes even though my eyes look like they've been stung by bees.
I finally manage to make myself look presentable before leaving my condo to meet Weston at the cafe.
That's right. My condo.
When I left Preston and Damian, my brother had given me a ton of money, more than I could even ask for, allowing me to live a luxorious life unlike my last.
I wrap my fluffy scarf around my neck as I make my way out onto the streets, avoiding patches of ice and snow that could be dangerous given my clumsiness.
This winter is colder than ever, not to mention dreary. The cafe is the only place I like to go since I hate being alone in my condo, alone in all the space I now have. The cafe is always bustling with chatty, happy people and always smells like fresh coffee, something I've always loved.
As I approach the door, I see Weston talking to a really pretty preganant lady. The lights are dark because the shop is closing up, but they look like they're getting into an argument. Finally, I see her sigh and hand him something, which in return, gives her a kiss on the cheek from him.
I quickly look away to avoid being caught spying and I hear the soft tinkling of bells from the door opening and closing next to me.
"Hey! You came!" I hear Weston's voice say ecstatically.
"Of course, I did." I chuckle, rolling my eyes.
He gives a qiuck shiver and frowns, "Wow, it's really cold."
"No shit." I laugh, watching the steam our breath makes in the freezing air.
Weston bumps me playfully and nods his head over the the street, "Let's go."
I follow him to a small black car. He unlocks it quickly and opens my door for me, bowing as I climb inside, "After you m'lady."
"Thanks, man."
He closes the door after I'm sitting but I can hear his laughter ringing outside.
Weston gets into the drivers' seat and turns on the car, and more importantly, the heat.
"Okay. First things first," he says, with a hint of nerves in his voice, "I have a confession."
He pauses, "Actually five."
I stare at him, "What are you talking about?"
Weston holds up a finger and places it on my lips, "Confession number one."
He glances at me and takes his finger off. I watch as he fumbles with his jacket's zipper as he struggles to find words.
"Up until today I've tried to avoid taking your orders because I was and still am afraid of you."
I offer a small smile and watch as he returns it back with relief.
"Confession number two: I honestly thought you weren't going to show."
I jokingly shrug, showing him that in fact, I did show. He grins and rolls his eyes.
"Confession number three: The only reason I'm doing these 'confessions' is because I feel like I should or else I'll seem creepy because I like you."
He looks at me and then continues, "Confession number four: I think that caramel macchiato that you order just about every time is the most disgusting drink on our menu and several times I've considered switching it with something better."
He grins sheepishly, "So I did. Today."
I frown, "What? You did? It didn't taste any different."
Weston's eyes widen, "Seriously? It's like a completely different drink! I gave you a cinnamon dolce latte!"
I roll my eyes this time, "Sorry I don't have barista taste buds."
Weston laughs and starts the car, putting it into drive.
"What's the fifth confession?" I ask him, "I like these."
He grins at me and continues to drive to our destination.
"Confession number five: I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. No exaggerations."
I smile and kiss his cheek, an odd gesture considering I'd only met him a few hours ago and I wasn't one to rush things.
"Weston, you're so sweet."
He groans and hits his head on the seat, "Ugh. Confession number six: I shouldn't have given you my full name. I don't know why I did because I hate it and it's dumb."
"What do I call you then?" I ask.
"Just call me Wes."
"I like Weston." I tell him, "I don't think it's dumb."
Weston looks at me and shakes his head, "No."
I hold my hands up, "Easy now, West."
Weston faces me briefly, "West. I like it."
"Good." I say, "Now, where are we going?"