Bittersweet Memories (Off-Limits)

“He’s here again,” Savannah murmurs, a dreamy expression in her eyes. She sighs happily as she leans over the counter, her head propped up on her elbow. I follow her gaze curiously, finding a handsome stranger seated in the corner of the coffee shop. He looks like he’s far too big for the small wooden chair, yet it doesn’t seem to bother him. He’s got his laptop in front of him, his gaze intense. He’s been coming here every day for two weeks now, and I find myself curious about him.

The man looks up, and my heart does this funny thing, almost as though it skips a beat. His eyes are the darkest green I’ve ever seen. They’re the color of expensive emeralds.

Everything about him screams luxury. He’s got cheekbones straight out of a magazine, and that hair… I bet it’d feel amazing to run your hand through that. He smiles at me, and I tense as I force a polite smile before dragging my eyes away.

“He’s been watching you ever since you started your shift,” Savannah says, a crestfallen expression on her face. “He’s been sitting there for hours, pretending like he isn’t watching you, when you’re so obviously all he can see. I should know. I’ve tried catching his attention more times than I can count.”

I glance back at him, surprised. He looks unattainable. It’s not just the obviously expensive suit, or the way he sits at that tiny table with his laptop that probably costs more than I spend on rent every month. It isn’t even his ridiculously good looks, that dark hair or those cheekbones. It’s something else. Something I can’t quite pin down.

Men like him don’t pay attention to girls like me.

“I have a boyfriend, remember?” I murmur as I finish making a mocha for one of our regulars. Oat milk. Extra shot of caramel. She orders the exact same thing every single day, and there’s a strange sense of comfort in that. “Here you go, Michelle,” I tell her as I hand her the mug.

Savannah smiles and tilts her head as she stares at me, a curious look in her eyes. “I never understood why you would date Ryan. He’s such an asshole, and while he seems to be faithful to you, he’s known to be a fuckboy, so I’m not sure how long he’ll remain loyal. Is it the money?”

I tense involuntarily and clench my jaw, swallowing down the insult. I can’t blame her for thinking it. At least she isn’t gossiping behind my back like everyone else is. Ryan is filthy rich, and I’m just a nobody. It’s no surprise to me that everyone around us thinks I’m a gold digger, but it doesn’t ever hurt any less.

“No, of course not. I know he’s a bit… rough around the edges, but when he’s with me, he’s wonderful. He treats me well, and he’s kind.”

She stares at me as though she’s trying to figure me out, and it immediately has me feeling defensive. “He’s a good man,” I tell her, keeping my voice cheerful.

Ryan is different. He keeps people at a distance and uses his wealth as a shield. But underneath that? Underneath the extravagance and the occasional obnoxiousness, he’s a genuinely good person. He helps at the soup kitchen I volunteer at every once in a while, and just last week we spent a day collecting plastic on the beach. It was a perfect day — he was perfect that day. I just wish others could see it too. I wish they could see the version I see, and not the one he insists on showing the world.

My shoulders slump in relief when four girls walk in, chatting and laughing about their latest book boyfriend. I smile as I grab cups for them, writing their names before they even reach the counter. Nicole, Sara, Gladys and Megan always order the exact same thing. They sit and chat for hours, each of them trying to lay claim on the main character of whatever book they just read. Just seeing them brings a smile to my face. The friendship they share warms my heart, but it’s their kindness that always brings a smile to my face.

“You have to read this, Alanna,” Nicole says, holding up a paperback that looks pristine. I’ve never dared accept one of her books because it’s obvious she handles them reverently. I wouldn’t even be surprised if they’re all signed.

I’m too clumsy. I’d spill coffee on her book and she’d hate me forever. I smile at her as I decline her offer. Nicole’s smile drops just a fraction, but it’s back in place as soon as I hand her her coffee. I have no doubt these girls have made it their personal mission to get me to read one of their books, and by the determined look in their eyes, I know I’m destined to cave someday.

The green-eyed stranger rises from his seat, and my heart involuntarily skips a beat. I can feel his eyes on me, and a shiver runs down my spine. He makes me nervous, and it’s rare for anyone to have that effect on me.

His eyes never leave me as he walks up to me. By the time he reaches the counter, my heart is racing, and it unsettles me. Something about him leaves me feeling thrown.

“Alanna,” he says, his voice deep as he draws out my name, his eyes on my name tag. He smiles at me, and I tense. Most people are so absorbed in their thoughts and their own day as they order a coffee that they don’t even look me in the eye. His intensity is unsettling.

“Could I ask you to make me a long black, please? To go, please.”

I smile involuntarily. There’s something so sexy about politeness, especially coming from a man like that — someone whose cufflinks could likely pay for a month’s worth of groceries.

“Of course.” I grin at him as I grab a cup, and for a second, our eyes lock. “What’s your name?” I ask, my voice soft. He usually has his coffee here and prefers ceramic cups, so I’ve never had a chance to ask his name before.

He hesitates for a split second before speaking. “Simon.”

I drag my gaze away, moving to hide behind the massive coffee machine as I write his name on the paper cup.

I’m flustered. I rarely get flustered. Even Ryan complains that he never succeeds in making me blush, yet here I am… feeling out of it because of a stranger. This is weird, and I feel guilty instantly.

I take a deep breath as I pour his coffee into his cup, my eyes drifting up to the large clock opposite me. Thank God, this shift is done now. I’ve got so many class notes to get through, and then there’s tonight’s dinner. It’s the first time I’m formally meeting Ryan’s family, and truthfully, he seems more nervous about it than I am. I can’t help but wonder if Ryan’s family thinks I’m a gold-digger too.

It’s all I can think about as I hand Simon his cup. He takes it from me, his gaze inquisitive, but my thoughts are elsewhere. I hope I’ll make a good impression tonight, but there’s this niggling sense of unease I can’t push aside. I’ve always trusted my intuition, and I can’t help but feel like tonight is going to be a disaster.

I bite down on my lip as I take off my apron and walk into the staff room to grab my bag. By the time I walk out of the coffee shop, I’m overthinking everything. It took me an entire week and close to two weeks’ worth of my salary to select an outfit, yet now all of a sudden I wonder if I might end up looking like I’m trying too hard. I’m worried they might not like me, and that they won’t be able to see past my messed up past. They won’t want their son to date someone who doesn’t even know who she truly is, will they?

I’m so lost in thought that it takes me a moment to heed the warnings my intuition is sending me. I blink as I realize that I’m not alone in the narrow alley that leads to the bus stop, and a chill runs down my spine.

I pause and inhale shakily as I turn decisively. In my experience, most weirdos will let you be if they think you’ll put up a fight or confront them. My eyes find the man behind me, his dark green eyes squarely on mine.

“Simon,” I murmur, before straightening my shoulders. Savannah’s words ring through my mind again. You’re so obviously all he can see. A chill runs down my spine as I stare him down. He pauses and raises his brow.

“Are you following me?”