Take My Breath Away

Chapter 4

Seth POV:

When I reach the diner, my friend Mickie, who's eleven years older than me, comes over to me and hugs me, feeling sorry for me. I sigh a little and feel comfortable in her arms. I move away from her and shake my head before she starts talking about my marriage. I don't want to talk about it again.

She understands my emotions and gives honor to them by not talking about that crap. Even if we have a significant age difference, we mean to each other as besties. "Hmm... Let's start." She pats my back and alerts me to work.

"Ouch!" I whine, holding my back in pain. I don't know why it is, but since morning my back has hurt like a bitch. I take slow breaths and try to ease the pain before starting my work schedule.

"What happened?" She asks in concern and soothes my back gently. Her fingers help me a little, so I sigh and take my time just concentrating on the rubbing, which makes me feel good.

"Nothing. Just fell from the bed." I lie to her because I don't want her to feel lousy for me. If she knew I got hurt by drinking, she would start to talk crap about my family. I'm not in the mood to hear about them again.

"Oh, you may sit here for a few minutes and get some rest. I'll take care of everything." She leads me to the chair behind the counter and makes me sit on it. She then wanders around the diner and takes the orders, handling customers in her style.

A few hours later, I feel comfortable and notice the pain in my back doesn't bother me much. I consider myself lucky that I've tended to no customers today. But as swiftly as that thought passes through my head, my luck runs out. And the bell over the door chimes.

I look up to see a group of two males and three females walking over to the table, which is far away from everyone. An amused smile crosses my lips when I figure out their dressing. Because even in this summer, they have worn beanies and scarves to cover most of their face.

I look out for Mickie to serve them, but she is nowhere to be found. I rub my hands in my black apron and pick a note from the counter, walking over to them. "Good afternoon. What can I get for you?"

The woman looks over the menu and responds, "Four large Americano, please. Hey, wait." She throws her hand in the air and murmurs something to a tall man who wears a gray woolen beanie around his head. Maybe she is talking about the other man, who is missing their group now. She looks at me again and says, "That's enough!"

"Name?" I ask, wanting to label their names in the paper cup.

"No need." The man responds this time and urges me to bring their orders faster. "Please, get fast. We have many works to do."

I nod and start on the coffee, wanting to get it over with as quickly and hitch-free as possible. Brewing the espresso is a relatively quick process, and I like to prepare it.

When the Americano is ready, I pour it into cups and take it over to them. I offer a small smile and pass each of their cups to them. My hands falter when another man approaches the seat, and the cup jiggles in my hands for an excruciatingly painful second before spilling over on him. I never want a thunderbolt to strike down on me more than at this moment.

"Motherfuck-" The man yells and shoves me away. Thankfully, the harsh word halts in his throat and makes me less worried.

"Shit! Oh shit! Oh, God! I'm sorry!" I scramble to find the nearest dry rag, rushing around the counter and getting one. I return to him and crouch down to press the rag where the scorching hot coffee has stained his jeans, right on his left thigh. It is most probably inappropriate, but he doesn't do anything to push me off now.

"I'm sorry." I look up, finding in my line of vision; a pair of bright blue eyes staring down at me.

The moment our eyes lock, time seems to stand still, and we stare at each other in shock once the electricity hits us hard and jolts through our bodies. The feeling is so intense that I have a hard time trying to regain my composure. What the hell does happen here?

The scarf, which is once covering his face, loosening up and letting way to a face that I guess who he is. "D-Dean Ambrose!!" I stutter, taking my hands away, which are still spread all over his thigh. I feel like I can die of embarrassment for giving a poor impression about this diner to a WWE Superstar.

I haven't noticed that my eyes are momentarily stuck on his face. With a gruff cough, I look down at the wet stain on his pants and realize the rag can't absorb any more of the coffee. My mind has alit, trying to find a solution out of the predicament I've gotten myself in.

"I've got a clean pair of sweatpants in the back," I suggest, straightening up and pointing behind the counter. "Come with me, and I'll give them to you."

When he nods, I get surprised and lead him to the lockers through the door reserved for personnel. I'm grateful that none of my coworkers are here, meaning there is no need to sneak him in.

"Won't you get in trouble for this?" He asks, looking around the lockers.

"Unless you file a complaint against me. I think helping others won't lead me into any trouble." I smile, rummaging through my locker and pulling out a fresh change of sweatpants. I hope he won't complain about my service to my boss and halt my job. This job is significant to pay my rent and other bills.

As I'm about to turn over, he stands right in front of me with a smirk on his face. My breath hiccups for a second as his captivating blue eyes focus on me. I swallow hard when he brushes a strand of hair off my face and asks, "What's your name?"

My gaze follows his hand, which strokes my cheek gently before stopping on my lips. I grab his hand and dig my nails into the sleeve of his jacket, not caring who he is when he pinches my lips. "Your fun will spoil my life!" I whisper gently and shove his hand away, hoping he will understand.

"So you don't want to tell your name to me. That's okay!" He says, turning our positions and leaning against the locker. "Well, kitten. You're attractive and out of my league. I'm fixed now."

"What?!" I ask confusedly, thinking about what he means now.

"Don't worry. Nothing to be said or done; I feel you are the one for me. Your life is safe in my hands, so you're off the market now." He pats my cheek before leaving the locker. He stops in the doorway and turns to look at me one last time. "Are you dating anyone?"

I'm stunned in place, not knowing how to handle him. I thought my life had ended yesterday, but God let another trouble in my life for his entertainment. I snap out of my thoughts when he hugs me and pushes something into my pocket.

"I got an answer by the look you gave me. Bye, kitten." He blows a kiss at me and disappears through the door.

I slide my hand in my pocket and get a piece of paper from it. My eyes wander down to the phone number Dean has given to me. There is no need to keep it. I dump the phone number in the next trashcan as I give up the locker, hoping he and his friends leave the diner already.