Love Undefeated (Unexpected #5) (30 page)

The dots started getting blurry and I felt wetness touching my cheeks.

His text finally came in

I love you.

Three little characters. Eight letters, so insignifant on their own.

But together, they formed the sweetest words that tried to capture the most basic of human emotions.

I responded back.

I love you, too
.

I waited for a few minutes, seeing if he was going to respond.

He didn’t.

So I stepped inside Koala’s.

The strong fresh brewed smell of coffee hit my senses.

I had one life.

If today was the day that coffee was the brew that made my heart kick back into its normal rhythm then I’m all for trying it.

There wasn’t a long line so the fresh-faced barista whose hair poked in all different directions and his eyes bleary, looking like he had a rough night out, asked, “What are you having today, Miss?”

I glanced at the menu on the wall and said, “Can I have a doubleshot of espresso on ice, please?”

I took the seat by the window, content to watch the flow of foot traffic.

I sipped on my coffee. “Disgusting,” I muttered to myself.

How in the world do people drink this on a constant basis?

I had friends who couldn’t function without it, but as soon as the first drip of coffee blessed their tongues, they could rule the world.

Tugging on my light green sweater, I watched as the glass doors of Koala’s opened and closed at an alarmingly fast rate.

Build and they will come.

Build a coffee shop and flocks will gather.

I took another sip of the black concoction.

I’d read that it takes nineteen times to acquire a taste for something, that you can actually ‘invert’ to be converted.

The more I tasted the espresso, the more I hated coffee.

Maybe I was one of the ill-fated forty percent of Americans who just did not like coffee.

Boo on me.

I might just save the world, a coffee bean at a time.

I smiled despite the occasional cringe each time I sipped, but the drink took a turn for the worse.

I looked down at my phone, noting that Xavier hadn’t texted back.

He might have gotten caught up in work the minute his plane landed.

When it was just the two of us, him working on his computer, me lounging on the couch surfing the channels, I’d see a hint of a vein popping out of his forehead.

He worked because he had to. For his dad’s sake and the company’s benefit.

His true passion was for the arts. I was quite sure that he was a good boss. Otherwise his dad’s secretary wouldn’t look at him the way she did. Adoring, gentle, ready to defend him at a moment’s notice.

When I’d visited him at work, the employees seemed to really respect him.

He was younger than half of the employees, but experience had no age limits.

He was trained by the best at a very young age.

“Missed me?” Only one man held that voice that my heart would answer to, every single time.

I’d been looking down so I hadn’t noticed him sneak up behind me.

He was squatting by my chair, nuzzling the faint stubble on his chin by my neck.

I turned to my right and my eyes landed on his green ones.

“You’re here,” I said, surprise etched on my face. I was expecting to see him at home after my run.

He took my right hand, the one I was holding the coffee cup with, and placed it on his lips.

“You love me,” he stated, the warmth in his eyes spreading across his expression.

“I do.” I smiled, spreading my hand across his face, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

“And you’re drinking coffee?” he noted, disbelief lining his features.

He sat up and my eyes roved on his travel outfit, dark jeans and a casual light red shirt. He didn’t even have a coat or jacket with him.

He tolerated below seventy degree weather way better than I did.

I gave my shoulder a tiny lift. “Just trying it out. I figured I won’t lose a tooth if I tried it.”

“You could.”

“What?”

“Lose a tooth.” He chuckled as he grabbed my cup and sipped.

“What’s this shit?” The disgust I was keeping under my breath earlier now had a voice. And that was Xavier’s.

A man who could live on an IV coffee drip.

“You love this crap. You live for it,” I snorted.

“Wrong. I hate this pretense of a coffee. This is worse than the fake guacamole they served at Kitchen of Tacos.”

Kitchen of Tacos was a fine Mexican establishment that Xavier hated because he said their guacamole was dyed with green food coloring.

I didn’t share his opinion, but his Lacrosse buddies did so apparently that was absolute
vérité
.

One of my bff’s was a genius, so of course I knew that word.

“I’m telling you, Nales. This isn’t how coffee’s supposed to taste. This is like the poor imitation of a Picasso.” His face was still scrunched as he brushed his hair with his hands.

His shirt looked rumpled, his hair a mess, yet his effect to me was molten.

I pursed my lips into a small grin, not quite meeting his eyes.

If I did, then our little impromptu coffee date would be brought to bed right away.

I missed him, but I was savoring this unplanned rendezvous by ourselves.

He looked at my cup and debated on whether he should drink some more.

“No.” I pulled it away from him, setting the metal napkin holder in front of us, barricading his hands from grabbing my cup and throwing its contents.

I paid for it. Gave my last dollar bills to the kid who could barely open his eyes, so I was drinking it until all that remained was the ice.

“How was your flight?” I asked as his hand reached for mine.

“Shitty.” He rolled his eyes and my focus went to the long lashes getting caught in the movement.

It was so unfair.

Guys like him shouldn’t have extra long lashes like he did.

“Mmmhhmmm…” I nodded, taking another slow, very small sip of the dark matter in the cup.

“There was a lot of turbulence,” he relayed. “And of course, the extra long flight delay. I didn’t want to call you so early this morning so I tried texting you. I’m glad I only had a carry-on because I heard on the overheard that luggage was going to be delayed for an hour or so.”

“That suck—” My words weren’t completely out of my mouth when a tall, willowy blonde wearing extremely tight skinny jeans robbed me of my thoughts.

She’d approached our table and her hands went on my boyfriend’s shoulders, the long fingers painted blood red stark against Xavier’s shirt.

My insides turned and revolted against my stomach.

My eyes burned at the sight of her light locks in perfect curls.

She was saying something…something…

“…been a while since I’ve seen you.” I caught some of her words.

But it was the look on Xavier’s face that made my blood boil to a fever pitch.

He was slightly pale, almost nauseous, his jaw solidly moving in a rapid pace.

“I–” he couldn’t even get a word out.

She was still talking, “I thought we were gonna hang out more. I waited for your call. I gave you my number. But you still haven’t used it.”

My heart was pounding.

Pounding.

Beating against my rib cage.

It was her.

Her back turned, her face landing on me.

Blue assessing eyes.

Her pink lips forming an “Oh.”

My knees felt like I’d run a 10K marathon.

I had the urge to tear her arm off where an Hermes’ Kelly Rose Tyrien was haphazardly hanging.

Tanya had the same bag and she’d raved on and on about it.

I wasn’t into luxury purses, but Tanya loved them so I kind of knew about them.

Her eyes drew a curtain, masking the astonishment of discovering that here I was, sitting at the same table with Xavier.

For the life of me, I couldn’t paste on a smile.

Not even a fake one.

My ex-boyfriend, Jerome, slept with so many women behind my back.

I’d walked around school wondering if each girl I met was
her
.

The one he cheated with.

There were lots of them. Even when I’d confronted him, he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he’d started cheating.

I got over him because I’d realized he never really loved me.

I was just
there
. Readily available, convenient, fit in his two-kids-with-a-dog future.

Xavier was there for me when Jerome cheated.

The meltdown, the aftermath, the recovery.

He was my friend through the sobbing and the tissue-inducing moments.

He’d known how low I’d gotten and he’d reached for my hands and held them high so I could stand back up.

So—

Tell Me.

How are you supposed to act when the woman your boyfriend slept with while you were carrying his child stood in front of you?

How do you stand up when you’re recovering from the loss of the most precious being in your world and
she’s
right there, sizing you up, cataloguing each freckle, pimple, black head on your face, with a slight smirk on her perfect pouty lips?

I’ll tell you how.

You stand up to her height, well not really to her full height because she’s six-feet Glamazonian tall.

You pull on your messy ponytail and stand straight. The straightest your spine could hold.

Then…

You hold out your hand and say, “Hi, I’m Nalee. Xavier’s girlfriend. I didn’t catch your name. Would you like some coffee?”

I’d almost called my buddy Zander to ask if his plane was parked anywhere near Cleveland when I heard that my flight got delayed.

At first it was for an hour.