Nyctophilia (Darkling 1)

Nyctophilia (Darkling 1)
Torri Heat
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Tori Heat

The first time Jasper showed up at the coffee shop, I didn’t even notice him. Not because he wasn’t worth noticing, but because my attention was focused on Mollie, my best friend, who was, as usual, regaling me with stories of her exciting Saturday night. I, as usual, had stayed home, despite her pleas for me to come out with them.

It was a Monday morning, and I sat at my small table in the back corner of our small coffee shop. I always worked here for two reasons. One, the coffee shop was one of the few places in Merrillan, Wisconsin that offered free Wi-Fi, and two, everyone knew this table was mine. I sipped my tea as Mollie stopped mid-sentence, and her mouth dropped open.

I waved my hand in front of her face. “Earth to Mollie!” I was teasing, but she knew it made me uncomfortable when she was so blatant in checking people out. I would much rather blend into the background.

She ignored me, her voice dropping to a whisper. “That is the hottest guy I have ever seen.”

I should have known Mollie was man-watching. I really wished she wouldn’t draw so much attention towards us, but Mollie didn’t care what anyone thought of her. She didn’t need to. A tiny, perfect blonde, and a force of nature, she was loved by the whole town. That was the price to pay to have her as my best friend -- a small price.

“Ava, seriously, turn around. And then I’ll drop it, I swear.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to be as subtle as possible. Merrillan was small, and we knew all the guys here, so someone must have gotten a haircut or something to catch her eye. I turned to look around the coffee shop. Fortunately for me, I found the subject of Mollie’s scrutiny. Unfortunately for me, familiar looking bright brown eyes had caught my gaze. I blushed and flung myself back around in my chair.

Mollie was right -- he was hot, with dark, messy hair and a complexion Mollie would’ve spent weeks in a tanning bed to achieve. Tattoos peeked out from under the collar of a dark leather jacket. Definitely not my type, but hotter than I’d expected. And he had 100% seen me checking him out. Hopefully no one else had.

“Are you sure we don’t know him already?” I asked. I was having a major case of déjà vu, like I had met him before.

Mollie shook her head. “Definitely not. I would remember that body anywhere. So hot.”

“He’s okay.” I downplayed the newcomer’s looks, hoping to disperse some of the embarrassment I was feeling.

Mollie sighed. “Sometimes I don’t understand what you’re looking for, Ava.” Before I could respond, she was back to the story she had been telling me before the stranger walked into the coffee shop.

* * *

After that first morning, I watched him every day. I should say, I watched him get his coffee every day, from my small table. I couldn’t shake the feeling I knew him from somewhere. He came in every morning, just like I did. Ordered his coffee. Large. Black. No frills. At least not with his beverage order.

His mannerism when he ordered said coffee was a different story. A smile for the middle-aged cashier who took his order, asking how her son in high school was. A wink for the college-aged barista who responded with blushes and smiley faces on his to-go cup next to his name -- Jasper. He moved through these interactions with an ease I envied. Of course, the smouldering smile and effortless way he pushed his dark hair off his forehead definitely helped. It surprised me. I never considered myself to be the judgmental sort, but I guess I had pictured a scowl more fitting on his face. I’d probably be tempted to draw smiley faces on his cup too with a smile like that.

Tempted for sure, but I wouldn’t. “Ava Green” and “flirting” typically weren’t heard in the same sentence. They weren’t in the same book, for that matter. And with Merrillan being so tiny, it was hard to break free of whatever box you got shoved into growing up. My box happened to have a giant label of “Socially Awkward,” written in permanent marker. Don’t get me wrong, it’s gotten a lot better since I left town. By left town I mean attended college the next town over. My small group of friends didn’t judge me when I stuck my foot in my mouth, I have my own little apartment, and my job is great, but college doesn’t perform miracles. I wasn’t about to sprint over to Jasper and throw him my number. I was happy to admire the new guy from afar. Leslie, the gossipy clerk at the local grocery store, told me Jasper was in town as a private investigator, working on some big case out of Chicago. He was a temporary fixture. But a handsome enough one to churn up the Merrillan rumour mill.

“Excuse me.” Someone brushed against my arm, moving past. I muttered something noncommittally, not looking up from my computer. For the most part, I tried to stay out of the way of the gossip-crazy locals. The cute stranger from the big city was the biggest news since local teenagers were caught trying to tip cows on one of the surrounding farms. I would know. I edited the newspaper’s blog post about it. The clueless teens mistook a bull for a cow. Needless to say, the cops were waiting for them when they got out of the hospital.

That was the reason I worked at this table every day. It was secluded, tucked away in the back corner, and barely visible from the front door. Even with the community style seating, no one ever tried to sit here. Compared to the long tables, the table for two I sat at seemed too intimate. It was the perfect place for me to get my work done and to people watch without anyone trying to socialize.

“Pardon me.” Someone else bumped my chair, squeezing behind me. I gave a brief smile, not paying attention. My spot was the perfect place to daydream about Jasper, the mysterious new guy with his charm and his black coffee and his full lips. His sultry smile revealed teeth that were bright against his tanned skin, and his shirts always stretched tight across his chest. I could understand the appeal for everyone else, but Jasper’s brooding eyes and his bad boy looks were usually not what I found attractive in a man. But I could still fantasize. I could imagine his soft lips covering my own, his kisses on my neck, his lips on my…

“Is this seat taken?”