She hated that she was so susceptible to his voice. To his eyes. She retreated back to the character that always served her so well. She let her eyelashes fall, and nodded as if she understood. She couldn’t handle a man like Ridley. She knew that. She didn’t dare chance becoming his friend. She wouldn’t know what to do with him.

He let her go. The moment she was free of his grip, she pulled her arm to her, pushing her wrist up against her body as if she could hold in the heat from his touch. She sent him one look from under her lashes and hurried past him back inside.

2

CATARINA looked at her watch for the hundredth time and then looked at David. He rolled his eyes. He held up his hands, fingers spread wide and grinned at her.

“Last call, everyone,” David shouted. “If you want a coffee for the road, come get it now. We’re closed in ten.”

She flashed him a small, tired smile. It had been a great night for Poetry Slam. Business was huge. Huge. The take was the most they’d ever done. The tip jar was overflowing, which meant extra gas money. It had been a great night, but she was exhausted. She hadn’t even been able to keep track of how many different variations of coffee she’d made that night. She could do ten more minutes, but beyond that . . .

Three men swaggered up to the counter to give David their closing orders. She avoided looking at them. One of the three, a man his friends called Jase, had twice tried to engage her in conversation. She’d given him a vague smile without meeting his eyes and stayed busy inventorying her various coffee beans both times.

“Hey, Cat,” Jase called out to her, overloud.

She winced and forced herself not to glance toward the corner where Ridley continued to read his book. She was all too aware he hadn’t missed both times Jase had tried to get her to converse.

“I can hear you, Jase,” she answered, without looking up.

“What’s it take?”

She made a mistake in pausing as she made his friend Marty his favorite latte. “I’m sorry?” she said, frowning a little, trying to puzzle out when he meant.

Ridley moved. He put down his book and stared hard at Jase.

“To fuck you. Tell me what it takes. We’re trying to figure that out and you’re giving us nothing.”

The coffee-house went utterly silent. David froze. Catarina blinked and Ridley was behind Jase, one hand on his shoulder. He spun the man around and punched him in the face. He hadn’t pulled back his arm for strength. It was a short punch, but Jase’s head snapped back on his shoulders and his legs turned to rubber. The only thing holding him up was Ridley’s hand on his shoulder.