Another Clip From My Untitled YA Novel In Progress.......
I was thankful when the woman behind the counter handed my mug to me. I took a long swallow, glanced around one last time, and then slipped outside where I ran into a hard chest. My drink flew out of my hand and hit the sidewalk with a sickening splash.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered, stepping back. “I…” but my voice trailed off as I looked into the silvery blue eyes of a boy I’d never met before, and yet felt as if I’d known forever.
His hair, an almost white blond, was naturally curled. It was cut in a short fashion that made him look like the member of a boy band I’d seen photos of on Google. His complexion was pale, but it matched his hair and eyes, and made him the complete opposite of Blake.
His eye brow was pierced with a black hoop, and another one adorned his lip. He wore a H.I.M. t-shirt, black jeans, and combat boots. I should have been turned off by his appearance, but instead all I could think was how beautiful he looked.
“Are you okay?” he asked and grabbed my arm to steady me. “Do they have the AC cranked up in there? You’re cold as ice.”
I’d forgotten about the cold, about everything leading up to that moment. A wave of calm swept over me, the same way it had at dinner when Blake touched me. I stepped further back, a little freaked out.
“I’m really sorry,” I stated again. “I hope none of my drink splashed on you.”
“I’m fine,” he replied with a grin that would make any girl’s heart melt. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
“I’m excellent,” I lied and turned to go.
I felt his fingers close around my upper arm. “Let me buy you another cappuccino,” he offered. “It’ll give us a few more minutes to talk.”
“Thanks, but I need to get back to the school,” I replied. “Lunch is almost over.”
I wasn’t sure who this boy was or what he wanted with me. If he was flirting, I wasn’t interested. I had enough problems to sort out with Austyn, and then there was the issue of Blake and our parent’s crazy idea of us being an item. I didn’t need another player added to the game.
“What’s your name?” he asked softly as I pulled my keys from my pocket.
“Elizabeth.” I watched as he repeated my name on his lips, almost as if he were trying to program it to memory. I smiled, but moved to my car and opened the door.
“I’m Jordan,” I heard him say as I climbed in. “I hope I’ll see you around again.”
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