If only something more interesting didn’t hold my attention. It’s when I’m watching her flutter around the shop that I realize that, unlike the party, she doesn’t blend in here at all despite the dark-colored clothes.

No, Story is just the book I want to read.

But if memory serves me right, and it always does, she had a boyfriend back in August.

Fuck.

Troy Hogan.

He and I have had more than our fair share of encounters. None went well for him. The thing is, Story was never in attendance. Did they break up?

Catching her eyeing me, I grin. She smiles from behind the counter like I didn’t just bust her and keeps staring at me. I don’t mind those hazel eyes on me, but I can’t figure her out.

When that Lou character calls her over again, I check her out. Five-three. Five-four max. Hair kissing the middle of her back. Even through the heavier material of the clothes, I can tell she’s got a rockin’ little body. She doesn’t come off as the type of girl to hide her curves. She just has the confidence to wear what she likes.

Passing by, she drops off a glass of water and swipes the empty plate and bowl. I’d forgotten about the coffee since I only ordered it so I wouldn’t get kicked out of the place. I take a sip of it even though it’s cooled. I really need to focus, and maybe the caffeine can help.

I stick in my earbuds, turn on a white noise track, and start where I left off in my research. I’m not sure how long I’ve been working, but when I sit up to stretch, I notice half the place has emptied out.

Story hops off the counter and comes over with a water pitcher. As she tops off my glass, she says, “I never did get your name.”

I’ve thought about this girl over the past five months, wondering what ever happened to her. I’d see Hogan and look for her to pop out of his beatdown truck. That never happened. But here she is as if something bigger just played their hand, and we’ve hit the jackpot. I hold my hand out. “Cooper.”

She slips her hand in mine, and when we shake, she says, “It’s nice to meet you, Cooper.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Our hands fall apart. Since I was never one to beat around the bush, I ask, “Are you seeing anyone?”

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