was frantically closing his notebook and tucking it out of sight in his jacket.
Instantly I felt guilty. “Hey, don’t go. I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s all right,” he said quietly. “I’m done anyway.” He pulled out his wallet and threw a few bills on the counter.
“No, please stay. You just got here.” Natalie filled his cup with coffee and set down the pot. “And put your money away. Coffee’s on me.”
“Keep it as a tip then. See you around.” He picked up his keys from the counter, put his sunglasses back on, and moved toward the door.
I raced ahead of him, unable to bear the thought he would leave still thinking I was a horrible person, even though I felt like one. “Hey, don’t leave on my account. I really am sorry.” Leaning back against the glass door, I smiled. “Can I try again?”
Slowly, he lifted his head and met my eyes. Stared directly into them, so hard my breath caught in my chest, and I felt desire stir low in my belly. With the short hair and the aviator glasses, he looked like a fighter pilot or something. Even the stubborn set of his jaw turned me on. Rawr.
“I’m Skylar,” I said, extending my hand. Then I wrinkled my nose. “But I guess you already know that from the Save a Horse, right?”
His brow furrowed. “Save a what?”
“Save a Horse. The reality show.” The fact that his expression remained perplexed gave me hope. “You mean you haven’t seen it?”
“No. I don’t watch much TV.” He paused. “You don’t remember me.”
“I don’t think we’ve met.” I tilted my head coquettishly. “I’d remember you. Definitely.”
Although, wait a second—there was something familiar there. Had we met? Why couldn’t I place him? Was he an actor I’d been introduced to in New York? And why wouldn’t he shake my hand, which was still extended between us?
It took him forever, but finally he reached for it.
“And you are?” I prompted. Man, this guy was gorgeous but a bit lacking in social niceties.
“Sebastian Pryce.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, enjoying the cozy fit of my hand inside his. “Are you—”
And then it hit me.
I did know him.
At least, I’d known a Sebastian Pryce. We’d gone to school together for years. But this couldn’t be that Sebastian…could it? I looked down at our hands. The Sebastian I’d known wouldn’t have shaken hands because he was always so paranoid about germs. Kids used to tease him by touching his shoulders and saying, Better go wash your hands, Sebastian. I gave you cooties. And even though it was ridiculous and we all knew there was no such thing as cooties, he always asked to go wash his hands after that. Once, in fifth grade, our teacher had said no because we were getting ready to take a test, and he’d completely flipped out and started tapping on his head and counting out loud. It was awful.
He let go of my hand and I continued to stare at him. Now I saw it, but talk about duckling to swan. I swallowed. “Wow. Sebastian. You look…different.”
“You look exactly the same.”
Was that a compliment? Hard to tell from the way he said it. “Thanks,” I said uncertainly.
“You’re welcome.”
Wow, this was awkward. Like trying to flirt with a tree. I wasn’t usually tongue-tied around men but I had no idea what to say to Sebastian Pryce after all these years. And why did he seem so angry? Was it because of the way he’d been treated in school? I’d never teased him myself—wait, I’d actually been kind to him, hadn’t I? Although he’d probably been bullied a lot, and I hadn’t exactly stood up for him. Was it possible he held a grudge?
“Could I get by please?” he asked tersely. “You’re blocking the door.”
“Oh. Right, sorry.” Flustered, I watched him push it open and bolt out like the building was on fire.
Off kilter, I turned to Natalie and put my fingtertips to my temples. “That was weird.”
“It was, kind of.” She shrugged. “But he’s not