“This is seriously so strange, Liv.”
“You don’t think I know that,” I snap, then sigh when I realize my tone is too sharp. “I’m sorry. I just have no idea what the hell is going on, and it’s driving me insane. When he ignored my questioning of it for so long, I just figured whatever. It wasn’t worth my mental sanity while I tried to figure it out on my own. He’s been coming in here for so long, it doesn’t feel like he’s a stranger, but maybe it should feel weirder than it does. It just is. At first, it was awkward. Now it’s just like … I don’t know? Maybe comfortable?” I lift my arms in sync with my shoulders as I shrug, sigh, and drop them heavily at my sides.
“Oh boy.” She sighs, her eyes wide, staring at me as if I have two heads.
“What?” I question, turning my head toward the front window, thinking that he was coming in. When I see him and Riley in the same position, her still talking with her animated movements and him just looking at her with all of his attention, I look back at Ella. “What?” I ask again, a little firmer.
“You like him.”
“What?” I gasp, my head snapping back like she had slapped me.
“You like like him, like him.”
“I do not!”
“Oh yeah, you do.”
“I’m just confused by him. I do not like him. He’s a puzzle.”
She scoffs. “He isn’t a puzzle. You’re frustrated that you can’t just jump his bones.”
I narrow my eyes. “Would you keep your voice down?”
She tosses her head back and laughs loudly.
I look around the room and see we’ve gained the attention of a handful of customers. I look back at the window, seeing Riley laughing with her whole body, jumping on her toes. When my gaze moves to Drew, I see his gaze on her, but his normally stoic face looks relaxed and almost boyish.
I’ve had a lot of time to study him during our silence. As his attention is always on Riley, I take in as much as I can from the corner of my eye. Much more time than I’ve had over the years of him coming into Olde Mug. I knew he was older, but I had assumed he was, at most, five years older than my thirty-five. But when I get a good look at those sandy locks during our walks home, I’ve seen more silver in them when the sun hits his head. He hides them well, just as he hides the faint signs of him being older in his face. If I had to guess, he’s closer to fifty than forty. However, when he’s with Riley, a side of him comes out that looks a little more relaxed, giving him an air of something so contradictory to the harshness I’ve grown so accustomed to.
The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes give him away. I don’t know what happened to him, but I have no doubt that Drew wasn’t always this closed-off, hard man.
“Yeah, you definitely like him,” Ella continues, snorting out a laugh and walking away from me when a customer approaches the counter.
I take my time with my thoughts, looking around the room at the four employees working on inventory on the merchandise shelves, restocking the milk and sugar stations, and tidying up the main floor. All younger college-age kids, all at the beginning of their lives, and always joking around and laughing with each other, keeping the atmosphere here light, happy, and relaxed.
Is this what Drew has always been like?
Was there a time when he gave his words away for free?
And if he did, what happened?
He’s such a paradox.
A handsome one, but nonetheless confusing.
“Crap,” I mutter.
“Ding, ding! She got it!” Ella exclaims from the espresso machine.
I grumble under my breath but don’t argue. She’s right. Something about him has always called to me, but now having spent this much time with him outside of his visits to the shop—even though he’s silent—there is no doubt that I’m drawn to him in a way that is all about attraction.
“Crap,” I repeat.
Her laughter echoes around the room, floating over the hissing sounds of the steam. I turn, walk around the side of the bar, and head toward my office.
“Hey,” she calls out, causing me to turn my head. “At least, can you please try a little harder to figure out what’s going on? Make up an excuse to get him upstairs and wait for Riley to be distracted and freaking figure it out, Liv.”
I take a deep breath and hold it for a beat before letting it go in a slow exhale. I hold her gaze, knowing she’s right, but I just don’t know if I’ll have the guts to do that. But instead of arguing or making an excuse, I just nod.
One way or the other, I’ll figure out what’s going on.
I pull the door of the coffee shop closed, trying to shield my frustrations over the situation behind my smile—one that I hope looks a little more convincing than it feels. I see Riley performing a song from Frozen for Drew while twirling and dancing on the sidewalk in front of Olde Mug. Drew’s in his normal position but more alert than relaxed, just as he is every time he has Riley near. She isn’t even the slightest bit distracted by the people moving around her or the passing cars on the street. She’s in her own world, one that is all about making “her giant” smile. I don’t know how she knows, but somehow she knows this man wouldn’t let anything happen to her. I’m sure that’s why she’s more at ease with him than most people, and that’s saying a lot since she’s the most carefree people person I have ever met.
I try to keep my focus on Riley. However, I’d be lying if I refused to at least admit to myself that my intrigue for the silent beast wasn’t intensifying way past the curiosities and baseline lust I’ve had over time for him.
The lust, I never understood.
Sure, he’s beyond good looking, and his stature is just flat-out huge. Not just because he’s super tall, but even his aura puts off this dominating energy that makes him seem even larger than life.
His silence makes him all the more untouchable and mysterious … and makes me want even more to get under that shell and find out what makes him tick. He’s a curious mix of hard laced with the signs of a past that tells me he hasn’t always been that way. I see it in his eyes, but especially the lines on his face that tell me, at one time, this man laughed and laughed hard.
Aside from all of that, I’m not quite sure what it is about Drew that makes me feel more toward him than just a coffee shop owner and her customer. My body reacts the second he’s near—it always has—but it’s becoming such a powerful reaction that I almost fall to my knees. Or butt. It’s intensifying the more time we spend together, and when he’s near, I find it harder and harder to hide that immense power behind polite words and great customer service etiquette outside of the coffee shop.
This need in the pit of my stomach drives me to uncover what’s beneath the surface of this silent man. I want so badly to figure out what pushed him to start being our bodyguard over the past few weeks, but it’s more than that. I need to understand him. I’ve racked my brain for the possibilities that would drive him to escort us to and from home every day. So far, I’ve come up with a whole bunch of nothing that seems even slightly rational or relevant. Since he’s clearly not going to explain it to me, I’ve decided it’s either time to resign myself to the possibility that I may never know, fully accept that it is what it is, or force him to tell me. Something tells me no one forces this man to do anything, though. I’m just not sure I can keep the current course without knowing. I feel like I’m coming out of my skin.