Outside the Lines(17)
“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he blurts and takes a step back. Some of my coffee splashed on him, but the majority is running down my front and dripping onto the floor. “I didn’t see you there. Well, I did, but then you moved,” he goes on.
“It’s okay,” I say, feeling breathless as I watch his full lips move as he speaks. I blink. No, this isn’t okay, actually. I’m covered in coffee.
“Let me help,” he says and sets his own drink down to grab napkins. I’m standing frozen, not sure what to do. My items are barely in my grasp and any movement might send them falling. Not the brownie!
“Here,” he says and takes the smashed coffee from my hand. I shake myself and take a step forward, setting my phone, wallet, and brownie onto the counter, and take the napkins from his outstretched hand. I wipe off the mess from my hands first, then move to my shirt.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, eyes on my chest as he takes in the damage done. “I’m in a rush and I … I … fuck. Can I at least buy you another coffee?”
Rush. Right. I’m in a rush too, and my brain automatically goes to the universe cursing me for being selfish enough to show up late to an appointment just so I could get coffee.
“No,” I say. “There’s still some left.”
He wipes off my phone. “I feel awful, really.”
I toss the napkins and get another handful, sticking them inside my shirt and retrieving a chunk of ice from between my breasts.
“Hey, at least it wasn’t hot coffee,” I say and force a smile.
He smiles back and I just might have quivered. “Right. I don’t want a lawsuit on my hands.”
A barista comes over with a damp towel. I thank her and wipe at my shirt, knowing it’s a futile attempt at most. This sucker needs to soak in some cold water and detergent. Fuck. I have to work like this now. I close my eyes, silently seething as I imagine Mindy’s smirk as she asks what happened.
“You’re pissed,” Hot Guy says.
“Well, can you blame me?” I blurt and run the towel over my sticky hands before taking my phone from him. I wipe it off the best I can, knowing I have to take it out of the case ASAP.
“Is that the new iPhone?” he asks, eyebrows going together. “It’s not out yet.”
“I have a beta,” I say. One of the benefits of being a techie nerd, thank you very much.
He shakes his head. “That’s besides the point. I think I ruined your shirt.”
“It’s too tight at the top anyway,” I say then realize I basically said my boobs are too big. Or that I gained weight and it doesn’t fit. Should I be embarrassed?
“It looks good on you,” he says, eyes going past the coffee stain to my cleavage. “Even covered in coffee.”
He’s hitting on me. I haven’t been hit on in … a long time. Suddenly, I need more ice running down my skin.
“Thanks,” I say and blink up at him. His skin is a gorgeous light tan with hints of olive. He has an air to him that demands respect, a confidence that can be seen.
He dries off my wallet and wipes the mess from the outside of the plastic cup, eyeing my name hand written on the side.
“Felicity,” he says and my name rolls off his tongue, his deep voice holding me captive from just speaking one word. “Are you sure I can’t buy you another drink to make for this?”
“I’d like that,” I say honestly. “But I’m running late to meet a client, and I hear the guy’s a real asshole.” I shake my head and sigh. “I’m already dreading going in.”
“Ouch, now I feel even worse. Asshole client and I ruined your shirt.”
“The shirt is the least of my worries,” I say with a smile.
“Then your client must really be as ass.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Yeah, he seems that way. And his secretary isn’t much better.” I wrinkle my nose. “I’m only doing this as a favor to my boss since he’s my friend.” I inhale and slowly let it out. I hook my wallet around my wrist grab my phone and brownie.
“Can I walk you out?” Hot Guy asks and picks up my coffee. “And your hands look kind of full.”
I’m smiling and nodding before I can get any logical words out. “Sure, thanks.”
“I still want to make it up to you.”
“Nah, it’s okay. I really should go and get this over with.”
He laughs. “Hopefully this guy takes it easy on you. Tell him some idiot ran into you and it’s not your fault.”
“I’ll say just that.” My heart flutters when he pushes the door open for me. “That’s me,” I say, motioning to my red Malibu parked right outside the door. I set the brownie and phone on the roof and open the door.