Taken from Chapter One
“Historical fiction, indigenous cultures, travel, blah, blah, blah…” I mumbled as I glided my fingers across the titles. Nothing captivated me enough to read. I almost gave up before landing on the romance section and my eyes fell on a rather interesting title: “Letters to my lover.”
Taking out the book, I flipped through the pages, intrigued as to what it might entail. Then suddenly, my curiosity halted. I felt someone’s eyes on me, watching me intently. It stirred me so much I glanced around, wanting to find the source. Turned out I didn’t have to search long as his presence blocked out everyone else’s.
Sitting by himself at a table close to the window, was a remarkably gorgeous guy with a dangerous gaze. He gave me the impression he was around my age, seventeen. Was he there when I walked in? No, I would’ve seen him. His existence was too demanding to miss.
His hand appeared frozen with the coffee cup near his lips, like he was in shock from seeing me.
I felt awkward. He stared at me with familiarity, as if I was a long lost friend.
What the hell! Why’s he looking at me like that?
I quickly dropped my eyes to the book and pretended not to be bothered. Only, he aroused me. I wanted, needed, to see if he was still staring. I slowly lifted my head, but as luck would have it, he was gone.
Who was that guy?