His eyes narrow like daggers before he grabs the front door to a diner. “How can you be this buzzed and still a smart-ass?” he asks, gesturing for me to step inside.
“How can you be this grumpy and still so cute?” I wonder, a giggle escaping before I can stop myself.
Oh my gosh. Did I just say that out loud?
Kolter is staring at me with a blank expression, so I rush into the diner, hoping to avoid eye contact with him—for the rest of my life if possible.
I grab a seat in a booth then cradle my head in my hands. The world hasn’t stopped spinning since Kolter first tipped me upside down, and sadly I don’t see any relief in sight.
I listen to his heavy footsteps as he approaches, but he doesn’t sit down. Slowly, I lift my head out of my hands and look up at him.
“You’re in my seat,” he says flatly.
My brows furrow as I look to the other side of the booth. “They’re identical.”
His expression is hard and unyielding as he continues to stare me down. “This one faces the door. I always face the door.”
Sighing, I stand up, wobbling for a moment, then switch to the other seat. “What? You think danger is going to come bursting in through a diner door?”
“Yes,” Kolter says as he finally sits, assessing his surroundings like he’s a security guard or something.
I shake my head then rest it in my hands once more. “You’re paranoid.”
“And you’re naïve, Peaches.”
“Don’t call me that,” I grumble.
“Why?”
I lift my head then rest it against my arm so I’m looking up at him. “Because it reminds me of a time where you liked me, and then I get sad because we don’t live in that time anymore.”
His brows knit together, but the waitress comes over before he has a chance to say anything. Not like he would have, though.
“What can I get you two?” she asks dryly.
“Two black coffees, and the greasiest burger you have for her. Lots of fries and ranch.”
She nods and jots the order down on her pad before walking away, while I just stare at the confusing man in front of me. He’s not looking at me, though. Instead, it’s like he’s casing the place. His gaze continues swinging around, looking through the windows down the street, up the road then back to the door. As if anyone would want to bother with us. Then again, what do I know? He’s the one with this mysterious life in a dangerous motorcycle gang. Maybe he has enemies out there right now hunting him down. Far-fetched, but you never know.
The coffees come then, and we both drink them easily. Though I usually prefer cream and sugar with mine, it definitely helps sober me up—as does the enormous burger I’m given ten minutes later.
We sit there in total silence, but once I’ve gathered enough composure, I find the courage to ask a question that’s been thrumming in my head since I first saw him.
“How did you know where I was?”
He looks away from the window to me, his gaze flicking across my face for a moment. “I didn’t.”
I don’t believe him for a second, but he clearly won’t tell me the truth, so I switch tactics.
“Okay, well, why did you interrupt us?”
“Excuse me?” he asks, raising one eyebrow.
“Me and Brett—that’s the name of the guy you headbutted in case you were curious.”
“I wasn’t.”
I shake my head in disbelief. What happened to the sweet boy I grew up with? The one that smiled more than he frowned. The one I could talk to for hours and never get bored of. This version is cold, stoic, and downright miserable to be around.