Page 71 of Scoring Chances
“So what do you read, Eddie?”
He rubs a hand down his stubble. “Poetry mostly. I dabble, as they say.”
“You’re a poet?”
“A dabbling poet, yes. I read some of my work for the first time at an open mic night here recently.” He motions toward the stage that’s now being used as an extra seating area for the dates.
“Have you been? To a poetry slam?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t actually.”
“They’re loads of fun. Terrifying for those of us performing. Fun for those watching. So I’ve been told.”
“Well, I’d love to come watch you sometime.”
“I’d love that, too,” he says. His warm eyes taking in my features. I can feel my face flush.
My phone vibrates again.
“What are you drinking there?”
“Vanilla latte with oat milk. It’s kind of my go-to.”
“You should try the brown sugar shaken iced coffee. I think you might find it refreshing.”
Are we still talking about coffee here? Because the way he just licked his bottom lip in a way that sent my insides whirling–is telling me otherwise.
The gong dings. And Eddie hesitates to get up. He extends his hand. “Nice meeting you, Sid.”
“You too, Eddie.”
He disappears behind me and I quickly write down his name and mark yes just as the next guy is approaching. He’s holding a LitRPG novel and is dressed in a way that reminds me of Cole.
I can already tell it will be a definite no. But I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Excuse me, pardon me,” Joshua says, halting him with a hand on the guy’s chest. “You don’t mind if I cut in real quick do you? This will only take a minute.”
He doesn’t say anything just looks at me.
“What are you doing?” I say to Joshua, whose now taken the seat in front of me.
“So you like British guys, eh, Princess? Should’ve known. Must be all that Bridgerton you’ve been bingeing.
How does he know I binge Bridgerton?
“Stop stalking me, Joshua. It’s not a good look for you.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Me? You’re the one who hasn’t taken her eyes off me since I walked in here.”
“You wish. Now scram, you’re cutting into someone else’s time.”
“Check your phone,” he says, ignoring me.
“No, whatever it is. It can wait.”
“Look at your phone, Cassidy, or I won’t leave.”
I give him a death glare and he returns it with an effortless smile.