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The line inched closer h, all that stood between the ner clothing I was so close that I could almost taste the blueberries So close that the darkened coffee was seconds away frooal in the display cabinet right in front of me: a beautiful, thick blueberry scone The last one, too I felt as if the universe had looked down on me and kissed my cheek with its love

Unfortunately, the universe had a sick sense of huentleman in front of me ordered the last one

“No!” I shouted, shooting in front of hi I blocked him and the display as if it were ainst ed out of my head The cashier and the man looked at me as if I were insane, and, well… fair assessment, but I didn’t care how crazy I appeared

All I cared about was getting that freaking scone

“I’ cashier, clearing hteen on a heavy entleman in front of me, and when my eyes met his, I almost passed out He looked so much like…

No

Focus, Stella

I pushed out the friendliest smile I could muster up and shook off my nerves as I met the coldest blue eyes I’d ever seen They looked like the ocean—if the ocean froze over and was unwelco They also delivered an icy chill down one’s spine when they were fixated on you

My whole body shivered as I stared into his blues His posture re and stable

I guessed my eyes didn’t hold the same effect on him

“I actually was going to get that blueberry scone,” I said “I’ve been waiting in line this whole time for that”

“That has nothing to do with rumbled His voice was deep and s in his accent? Maybe Queens? Or Brooklyn? When I was a kid, I had an odd obsession with daydrea that I was from New York City I’d watched one too many episodes of Sex and The City and practiced the different New York accents I’d hear on YouTube

So out with people; others mimicked accents in their bedrooms

The stranger held his card toward the cashier, and I slanced down at his card, rose to meet my stare, back to the card, then back at me I felt a wave of nausea hit me

“Sorry,” I muttered

“Are you fucking joking?” he shot back, irritation dripping from his existence

The poor cashier looked uncolanced toward the back of the shop as if hoping for someone to rescue her fro to need you to—"

“I’ll pay you!” I cut in as I ignored the girl and looked at themy wallet out of my purse “How much for that scone?”