Hey Sunshine by Tia Giacalone Read Free Book Online Page A

stuck in my mind the rest of the evening.
    When I went past the laundromat on my way to work, I saw him through the window, working on a fancy laptop while he waited for his clothes to dry. I spent half of one waitressing shift wondering what he was doing on that computer instead of filling my orders correctly, prompting Billy to ask me if I was feeling okay. I managed to put Fox out of my mind and finish my tables, but just barely. When Chase came into the diner that afternoon, I lavished affection on him to assuage my guilt then felt guilty about that too.
    After a week of seeing Fox around and pretending like I didn’t, I gave in and waved at him outside the coffee hut. He looked surprised at first and then lifted his to-go cup in my direction and smiled. That smile emboldened me, and suddenly I was cramming a lid on my vanilla latte and heading in his direction.
    I approached his table cautiously, taking in his laptop, tablet, and smartphone spread out on the surface. The man had every brand-new toy available, apparently. I was suddenly self conscious of the very outdated flip phone in my other hand. Heather was always complaining about my lack of technology; I could barely even text with my old dinosaur.
    “Hello, Avery.” Those eyes. Every time with those eyes.
    “Fox, hi,” I said shyly. My sudden surge of confidence left me as quickly as it came, and I shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.
    Fox quickly cleared a space on my end of the table, shoving his laptop and tablet in his backpack and pocketing the phone. “Would you like to sit?”
    “Um, okay. Thanks.” I perched on the edge of the chair opposite him and fiddled with the cup in my hands. I could feel his eyes on me, observing in that quiet way he had.
    “What are you drinking?” he asked politely after a minute went by and neither of us had said anything.
    “A vanilla latte?” It came out as a question, and I laughed at myself. His mouth quirked up on one side, showing a dimple. “A vanilla latte,” I repeated, firmly this time. “You?”
    “Just coffee. Black.” That dimple was still showing, and I wanted to dip my finger in it.
    “I don’t usually drink this. I mean, I drink coffee. But not this coffee. Not a latte, or coffee from here. Not that this place is bad, it’s just that I can drink free coffee at the diner, so…” I realized I was babbling and trailed off. Great, I went from mute to word vomiting. Really smooth, Avery.
    The dimple deepened. “Got it. No to expensive lattes, yes to free coffee.”
    “Right.” I took a deep breath and asked a question I’d been wondering all week. “Are you working on something? On your laptop?”
    An indecipherable expression crossed Fox’s face, and then the dimple was back. “Sort of.”
    I waited a beat to see if he’d elaborate but he raised his cup and took a drink instead. Okay then. His expression remained pleasant so I decided to press my luck.
    “Are you thinking of staying around Brancher for a while?” There was that boldness again.
    Fox looked right into my eyes before he answered. “I hadn’t planned on it, but I think I’ve changed my mind.”
    “Oh. Oh, well, that’s great,” I mumbled. “Really great.”
    “It was nice running into you,” he said, standing and shouldering his backpack. Something over my shoulder caught his eye and I thought I saw his face pale slightly. I glanced over my shoulder but didn’t see anything, and I turned back to him curiously. I watched as he looked down uneasily, then shoved his hands in his pockets.
    “Are you okay?” I asked, concerned. His self assuredness had all but vanished within a few seconds, and for a moment I had a glimpse of someone very different.
    “Yeah,” he said, the carefully guarded expression back in place. “See you, Avery.”
    We went our separate ways after his comment about his plans to stay in Brancher, but our impromptu coffee date broke the ice and now we waved and said hello whenever we