I still have time.
“Are you heading to the hostel now?” I ask.
“Yeah?”
“Let me give you a ride.”
I take hold of her elbow, and we begin to walk toward where I parked the SUV.
“Aren’t you meeting your friend?” she asks.
Moving my hand to her lower back, I answer, “Not for another two hours.”
I have to wait for the club to fill with people. The more, the better, as it will make it easier to blend in then.
Hailey comes to a dead stop on the pavement. “Then we have time for coffee.” Turning around, she grabs hold of my hand and begins to pull me back toward the restaurant.
Christ, this night is going to shit at the speed of light.
HAILEY
How lucky am I?
My insides bubble with excitement from running into Carson.
As we take a seat at a table, my eyes drift over him again.
Damn, he looks devastatingly hot in jeans and a leather jacket.
I set my bag down next to my chair. It contains my clothes for the weekend.
When a waiter comes to our table, Carson places the order for two coffees, and it has me asking, “How many languages can you speak?”
“A couple,” he answers vaguely.
“Which ones?” I press.
“German, Italian, French…” His eyes lock with mine as his words trail off.
He still looks worried, and I’m starting to think it’s because he’s out in public. I’ve read it’s exhausting for introverts to be among people. Wanting to set him at ease, I reach across the table and place my hand on his. “Try to ignore the other people. Pretend it’s just us.”
Carson’s eyes lower to where I’m touching him, and it has me pulling back.
“If I knew you were coming, I would’ve hitched a ride with you and saved the money for the bus ticket.”
He tilts his head, his eyes sharpening on my face. “Instead of staying at a hostel and paying for another bus ticket, you can ride back to Saint Luc with me.”
My insides do a happy dance at the offer. That will give me more time with him.
Without hesitating, I smile widely at Carson. “That would be great. Thanks.”
He looks surprised by my answer, but it quickly fades from his face, and soon the worried expression is back.
“Will you wait in my car while I meet with the friend? It will take thirty minutes.”
I shrug. “I don’t mind.”
The waiter brings our coffees, and I stir two sugars into the beverage.
I can’t believe I’m having coffee with Carson, and I’ll be riding home with him. I’m getting to spend hours with him and not just a couple of random minutes.
My lips curve impossibly high at the happiness the thought brings me.
Carson’s eyes lower to my mouth, and the expression on his face changes until he seems to be deep in thought.
I use the moment to get some staring done as well, and like a stalkerish fangirl, I try to memorize every inch of his face.
Suddenly his eyes lift, and they collide with mine.
We sit frozen as the same electric current I felt on Tuesday begins to buzz between us. My heartbeat picks up, and my breaths grow deeper.
I wonder what it would feel like to kiss Carson. What it would be like to date him.
I have no idea how much time passes before Carson lets out a heavy breath and takes a sip of his coffee, breaking the magical moment between us.
Wanting to know everything about him, I clear my throat and say, “We’ve known each other for weeks, and I still don’t know what your last name is.”
Carson’s jaw clenches, but after long seconds he murmurs, “Koslov.”
Carson Koslov.
The hermit I’m falling in love with.
The thought rocks me to my core, and I almost drop the cup. Setting it down, I stare at the liquid with a racing heart.
Am I?
Really?
But…
I’ll only be in Saint Luc for three months. I can’t fall in love. It will only complicate things.
“Hailey.” My skin responds to the low timbre of his voice with goosebumps.
I lift my eyes to his.
Carson leans a little closer, and tilting his head, he asks, “Everything okay?”
Quickly I nod. “Yeah. Sure.”
“You looked worried for a moment.”
“Not at all.” I let out a chuckle then return to our conversation. “My last name is Welsh.”
“Hailey Welsh,” he says my name slowly as if he’s tasting it, and it makes a sweet ache spread through my abdomen and stomach.
I take a sip of my beverage then ask, “Tell me, what does an introvert do for a living?”
Carson's eyes dart around the restaurant, and it takes a moment before he replies. “I’m a contractor.”
My smile widens again. “What a coincidence. My dad’s in construction. Do you travel a lot with your job?”
He nods and finishes his coffee.
“Are you from Russia?” I ask another question.
Again he nods. “I lived there until I was sixteen.”
“And your family?” The questions are popping up fast, my need to get to know everything about him growing.