gaze for longer than would be considered normal. Of course, the rest of the customer’s face matches up to the beauty of his eyes. Smooth skin flawlessly shaved, strong jaw, classical Roman nose, full lips that are twitching up at the corners in amusement. His masculine scent is pushing my mind into the unforgiving hands of euphoria and…suddenly I realize a significantly long moment must have passed since my coma started.
I blink my eyes several times and give my head a quick shake to dissolve the dream away and get back to my day. When I finally glance back at him again, the shock of seeing him hits me with the same strong blow.
Perhaps due to seeing my confusion, he starts drinking me in as well, and as his eyes roam over my neck and chest, I feel my breathing falter and my heart race with excitement.
Chris calls the next customer to the cash register beside me, and I hear the lady in a nurse’s uniform making tsk sounds in my direction before she gives her order to Chris. That’s my clue to get back to my job.
“What can I get for you?” I mumble, tearing my gaze away from Mr. Magnetic Eyes’ face, which seems to be the root of my imbalance. However, it’s hard to escape his hypnotic pull because now my gaze is stuck on his exquisite suit that, I have no doubt, is hiding a trim athletic body.
He’s very tall, easily six-feet-three, and when he moves toward the counter, he spreads his arms on both sides of the cash register, his gorgeous torso encompassing my entire view. A cold shiver runs down my spine. My stomach flutters at the sight of the endlessly wide shoulders and chest. It’s a welcome change from all the embarrassing sounds of growling I’ve had to endure.
Despite the awkwardness of it all, I continue studying the intriguing male who has obliterated all thought of my constant hunger, the rent that’s due in two days, and the crippling poverty I haven’t been able to escape in my nineteen years. Which reminds me of the fact that I should pay attention to his order if I want to keep my eight-dollar-an-hour job with its shift changes that prevent me from being able to work a second job to keep me afloat.
Magnetic Eyes’ smile grows, and he places a twenty-dollar note next to the cash register. “A small cappuccino with four shots,” he says. I guess he has realized my nonstop worship and is kind enough not to put me under the spotlight. “Keep the change,” he adds.
That’s sixteen dollars and fifty-one cents, and for me, two-weeks’ worth of dinner money. I’m too poor to argue with him about his unusual generosity and give him my thanks with a soft voice while slipping the change into the back pocket of my jeans.
Chris takes over the next customer while I prepare the order for Magnetic Eyes. Keeping my gaze fixed on the coffee machine, rather than on him, requires intense self-control. And of course I fail and allow my eyes to indulge in him one last time.
Jesus! He’s so very hot, like Hollywood star hot, and I feel the room getting too warm. Just as I start admiring the details of his stunning features, the subtle shake of his head as if to say ‘don’t’ makes me snap my attention back to the coffee machine just in time to keep from spilling cappuccino all over the floor.
He’s wealthy and too handsome for the majority of women. I’m poor and so very ugly; I don’t even have the right to look at him for longer than necessary.
Gulping down my disappointment and unending frustration with life, I place his cappuccino on the counter and call out his order loudly, although he’s right in front of me. I don’t dare glance up at him when he says “thank you,” but I don’t miss the woman he walks out of the café with.
Of course, he’s with a woman. What else would an overly hot and wealthy man walk around with? A Chihuahua?
Anger at myself for wasting my limited energy on unnecessary thoughts of a man floods my chest. I haven’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday. If
I blink my eyes several times and give my head a quick shake to dissolve the dream away and get back to my day. When I finally glance back at him again, the shock of seeing him hits me with the same strong blow.
Perhaps due to seeing my confusion, he starts drinking me in as well, and as his eyes roam over my neck and chest, I feel my breathing falter and my heart race with excitement.
Chris calls the next customer to the cash register beside me, and I hear the lady in a nurse’s uniform making tsk sounds in my direction before she gives her order to Chris. That’s my clue to get back to my job.
“What can I get for you?” I mumble, tearing my gaze away from Mr. Magnetic Eyes’ face, which seems to be the root of my imbalance. However, it’s hard to escape his hypnotic pull because now my gaze is stuck on his exquisite suit that, I have no doubt, is hiding a trim athletic body.
He’s very tall, easily six-feet-three, and when he moves toward the counter, he spreads his arms on both sides of the cash register, his gorgeous torso encompassing my entire view. A cold shiver runs down my spine. My stomach flutters at the sight of the endlessly wide shoulders and chest. It’s a welcome change from all the embarrassing sounds of growling I’ve had to endure.
Despite the awkwardness of it all, I continue studying the intriguing male who has obliterated all thought of my constant hunger, the rent that’s due in two days, and the crippling poverty I haven’t been able to escape in my nineteen years. Which reminds me of the fact that I should pay attention to his order if I want to keep my eight-dollar-an-hour job with its shift changes that prevent me from being able to work a second job to keep me afloat.
Magnetic Eyes’ smile grows, and he places a twenty-dollar note next to the cash register. “A small cappuccino with four shots,” he says. I guess he has realized my nonstop worship and is kind enough not to put me under the spotlight. “Keep the change,” he adds.
That’s sixteen dollars and fifty-one cents, and for me, two-weeks’ worth of dinner money. I’m too poor to argue with him about his unusual generosity and give him my thanks with a soft voice while slipping the change into the back pocket of my jeans.
Chris takes over the next customer while I prepare the order for Magnetic Eyes. Keeping my gaze fixed on the coffee machine, rather than on him, requires intense self-control. And of course I fail and allow my eyes to indulge in him one last time.
Jesus! He’s so very hot, like Hollywood star hot, and I feel the room getting too warm. Just as I start admiring the details of his stunning features, the subtle shake of his head as if to say ‘don’t’ makes me snap my attention back to the coffee machine just in time to keep from spilling cappuccino all over the floor.
He’s wealthy and too handsome for the majority of women. I’m poor and so very ugly; I don’t even have the right to look at him for longer than necessary.
Gulping down my disappointment and unending frustration with life, I place his cappuccino on the counter and call out his order loudly, although he’s right in front of me. I don’t dare glance up at him when he says “thank you,” but I don’t miss the woman he walks out of the café with.
Of course, he’s with a woman. What else would an overly hot and wealthy man walk around with? A Chihuahua?
Anger at myself for wasting my limited energy on unnecessary thoughts of a man floods my chest. I haven’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday. If
Similar Books
