𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓪

I clocked into work that morning. The bell rang, it being our first customer of the day.

There was only one other girl working. A few others would arrive in an hour. The mornings were always strangely slow. I walked out from the back room and halted when I saw Owen.

He looked at me and smiled, "I told you I was coming back."

I let out a shaky breath and walked hesitantly up to the register. "A black coffee?" I remembered.

"Hm, you remembered, though that was just, what, two days ago?" He nodded thoughtfully. "Anyway, yeah," he looked at me, his brows furrowed. "To go," he added and then suddenly reached across and swiped a thumb over my shirt sleeve above the wrist.

I jerked back, my eyes widening.

"Woah, you're okay," he laughed. "Just flour on your sleeve. Do you bake?" I watched as he held his hand openly, not knowing what to do with his flour smeared thumb.

I nodded, slowly slipping a napkin across the counter. I glanced at my wrist, remembering the way his hand was briefly holding mine and the warmth that radiated off his.

"Okay, cool. I know it may not seem like it at all, but I like to bake too, actually. I work over at Kristina's, if you know where that is. It's a bakery."

I shook my head, taking a step back to make his coffee.

He watched me, putting his helmet on the counter. "It's a few miles that way," he nodded towards the left with his head. Slowly, a smile spread across his face. "You're so tense, relax a little bit."

I glanced at him, trying to relax my shoulders.

"I know I probably look a bit intimidating. Believe me, I've had a lot of people say that, but I promise I wouldn't hurt you," he said, his voice gentled.

How do I know to trust you? I just met you.

I don't know you.

I grabbed the marker, going to write his name but put it back down, setting his coffee on the counter. I went back to the register, and he followed, resting an elbow on the wooden slab on top of the glass case, looking down at me. "No?" He asked with a smile.

I glanced up at him, confused, and stepped away, wanting distance. He could grab me at any moment.

He watched but paid no attention to this. "Your phone number? A date? Your name? You pick. Though I'd really like to know your name," he laughed.

I swallowed, shaking my head.

"Not even your name?" He leaned in closer. That's when I realized I had forgotten my name badge.

I glanced at him, meeting his dark eyes, realizing I was starting to shake. I grabbed my arms.

This he noticed and frowned. "Look, I know I probably look intimating or scary, whatever, with all the tattoos and motorcycle," he smiled quickly, "but I swear I'm not going to hurt you. I don't want to go to jail or anything," he added in a humorous tone. He leaned back, raising an eyebrow. "So... A name?"

I looked down, hesitant. What's the harm in a name? He'd see my badge at some point.

"Clara," I replied quietly.

"Clara?" He paused, "that's elegant." He looked at me, smiled, "pretty name for a pretty girl." He watched as my face turned pink with a smile, put on his black helmet, and then grabbed his coffee, raising his hand in a motionless wave before he left.

I went into the back and grabbed my name badge.