Boy Meets Girl

The following is additional, unpublished content from the novel Soulmates: A Metaphysical Love Story.

Zachary rubbed his hands together, willing them to warm as he walked past the brick buildings that lined the street. The chilly November air nipped at his ears as he walked. He made a mental note to fix the heater in his Tacoma this weekend. Between his full-time job and a carpentry apprenticeship, he rarely had the time or energy for those kinds of things.

The door to Windmills chimed as he walked in, and he struggled to close the door behind him against the gentle gust of wind that followed him inside.

He turned to survey the coffee shop. It was quiet. A few customers sat at the mismatched tables, the glow of laptops lighting their faces. One customer—a redhead wearing a dark blue sweater with her back to him—drew his eye. The breeze from the door rustled her hair, and though he knew it was likely his imagination, he thought he could smell a hint of coconut shampoo.

He resisted the urge to turn and look at her as he walked past, heading to the swinging door at the other side of the shop that led to the back room.

Zachary clocked in at the keypad just beyond the door and looked around. An open container of cookie dough sat on the counter by the freezer, the papers that separated each circular slab of dough discarded haphazardly nearby. Zachary could tell it had been a busy morning for Sam and whoever opened the shop before she came in. He set to cleaning up the mess before he went out front to help with customers.

He had a tease on his lips for Sam as he emerged from the back room, apron in hand. He slipped it over his head and made to speak, but words fled his lips as he laid his eyes on the woman standing by the counter.

It was the woman he noticed earlier. Her profile was framed against the windows as she surveyed the space around her, a soft smile playing at her pink lips. When she turned her head Zachary noticed how her emerald eyes shone with soft determination, and something within him stirred excitedly. The feeling bubbled up from the depths of him and quickly threatened to spill over—a strange mix of desire, surprise, and relief.

“Are you guys hiring by any chance?” he heard her say.

“Yah, actually,” Sam started to say, but Zachary couldn’t contain himself a moment longer.

“Are you thinking of applying?” he asked her.

The woman’s eyes met his and she stilled, seemingly noticing him there for the first time. She stared at him for several moments, her lips parted slightly, and Zachary barely breathed until she spoke.

“I-I might,” she said, and smiled at him.

As soon as Zachary beheld her smile, the bubbling energy that threatened to spill over as nervous laughter or shaking hands settled into something warm and solid inside his chest.

“You should,” he said matter of factly, and nodded toward Sam, who stood with a paper application in her hand.

He watched as she reached toward the application, her eyes flitting to Sam but then settling back on him as she gripped the paper. He reached toward the empty paper cup on the counter with her drink order written on it, his eyes never leaving hers.

A part of him inexplicably feared that if he looked away, she would disappear in a cloud of smoke.

“I’ll take care of this for you,” he said, winking. Then, his muscles groaning in protest at the prospect of turning his back to her, he walked away to make her drink.

He peeked at the drink order written on the cup in Sam’s large, bubbly handwriting.

Cherry Bomb. He didn’t know why, but it seemed fitting.

Zachary didn’t speak to her again that day. He spent the next forty minutes of his shift stealing glances in her direction, his heart pounding when he looked over to find her gazing in his direction only to quickly avert her eyes as they met his.

Eventually Zachary turned to find her gone, the table where she sat with her notebooks and binders now empty. His eyes darted to the door just in time to see her red hair vanish from the window as she walked to her car.

Zachary silently wished for her to fill out that application, knowing that even if she didn’t, every cell in his body was determined to see that woman again.