Pieces of Me by Pua Ramona (small books to read txt) 📕

but there was no one out there. I checked my phone and it was a text message from my sister.

My Sista My Sista: Could you bring me some coffee from Pixie’s please? And don’t say no ‘because I know you’re there.

Me: Stalker.

My Sista My Sista: All day. See you in a little bit.

I smile, stashing my phone back in my bag. I can still feel eyes on me, beginning to make my skin crawl with uncertainty. I turn fully toward the window to get a better look, searching for anything that could be the reason for the uneasy feeling that’s starting to settle in the pit of my belly. Scanning the sidewalk my eyes flick back and forth until they stop in their tracks on what looks very much like the face that has been haunting me in my dreams. No. It’s not him, it can’t be. My heart is beating a little too fast, so I blink a few times and concentrate on pulling in a deep breath to calm my nerves. I don’t ever talk or think about him, but that doesn’t mean I don't carry the memories of his face around with me . My mind starts to drift, pulling me into a place I try constantly to stay away from until Eli sits down next to me, breaking the trance and snapping me back to the present. “Are you okay?” he asks.

I smile and say “Yes, I just need my sugar fix.”

He hands me my coffee and sweets. I roll my eyes when he gives me four cupcakes and see that he only has two. I would say that I’m embarrassed but that would be a lie. I love to eat and I love my cupcakes and I don’t even care. I eat all four cupcakes and I’m still not full.

“How can you eat all four cupcakes and not get sick? Where does it even go?” Eli says in amazement.

I laugh hard and say with a shrug “My feet?” I mean I’m not a skinny girl but I’m not going to let these delicious little babies go to waste either. I feel Eli staring at me and I blush again. “You’re staring again.” I tell him and he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, just continues to stare at me. Dammit, I hope it isn’t a booger, or leftover cupcake stuck on my teeth. How embarrassing.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asks.

I shrug my shoulders. “Not really? You just make me feel like I have a booger hanging from my nose, or I have leftover cupcake in my teeth or something.” He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds then he uses his thumb to wipe the stupid icing that was on my lower lip. He brushes his thumb over my lip then sucks the rest of it off his thumb. Dammit to hell, that turns me on. My face starts feeling hot and I know I’m blushing like an idiot.

“You had icing on your lip” he says with a smirk. I try clearing my throat because I don’t want to choke in front of him. “You’re turning red babe” he teases. I know we decided to not have labels, but I love that he calls me babe.

I cover my face with both of my hands and say, “Then stop doing that!.”

He moves my hands out of my face and says, “I’ll try, but I love making you blush.”

I roll my eyes at him and ask “Are you ready to leave?”

“Whenever you are,” he says.

I can’t help myself and I don’t want it to go to waste so I ask him “Are you going to eat that or no?” Please say no because I want it. And I point to the leftover cupcake on his plate.

“No you can have it” he says. He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I reach over and eat it in two bites. I should have been embarrassed but not me. I don’t play when it comes to food, but I should stop before I give myself bubble guts.

“We’ll order some to go when you’re done with that,” Eli says.

I finish the rest of my coffee and say “Mmm that was so good.

He cleans our table off and reaches for my hand. I’m not surprised when I reach back for him. It feels like second nature to me now. I lace my fingers through his and he holds my hand with a firm grip. He makes me feel safe and I love it. Leila has our goodies ready for us and we say our goodbyes before walking out to the truck. I know it’s a must thing for him to do, so I let him buckle my seatbelt. Before he can close my door I grab his hand and kiss the inside of his wrist. I can’t use my words but I want to show him that I love him.

“Thank you for this,” I say. He doesn't say anything, but kisses me instead. I smile through our kiss. I am falling hard for this man and I’m not going to get in my own way again. He closes my door and walks around to his side.

That ‘watched’ feeling washes over me again but now there are a few people outside, so maybe I’m just being paranoid or tired. Yeah, that’s what it is. I’m tired. I focus on breathing, having an internal battle between calm and freaking out in silence as we pull out of the parking lot and start driving away from Pixie’s. I don't know why I do it, it’s like some kind of subconscious compulsion that fights against me closing my eyes and trying to appease the anxiety that’s gripping my lungs in a vice, and instead has me seeking the reflection I can feel in my side-view mirror. I feel my heart drop to my stomach. The person that I have constantly prayed I wouldn’t see for the rest of my life,