The Affectionate Player - Part2

Chapter 7

                  

Fuck sake, Jacob! What are you thinking?

I chastise myself for the hundredth time since leaving Gracie breathless and virgin like with my babies on the pavement. Sounding my car horn at every other driver across Kensington just for looking at me the wrong way, seems to be how I've managed to reach the coffee house.

"Americano. Hot milk. Extra shot. Ginger syrup." I bark my order selfishly at the young trainee behind the counter who glares at me wide eyed and clearly in shock. Feeling suddenly guilty, likely because she looks like my sister Connie, I relax my temper.

"Sorry. I'm having a shit day." Pulling my fingers harshly through my curls, a soft smile touches her lips as she lifts the small notepad to write my order.

"Shall I bring it over, Mr Jacob?" What? Crap! She knows me. Maybe she's a fan and I've completely insulted her. Great job, Jacob! You're just full of intuition today.

"No it's fine. I'll wait." Flashing her a half smile, she's all fingers and thumbs with the cup and saucer until finally she gets it together and places my order on the tray.

"Would you like anything else? A croissant, perhaps?" Her eyes tell me she's hopeful I do.

"Just the coffee for now, thanks."

Making my way to the table by the window, I grab a paper and settle into the armchair and flicking restlessly through the pages I realise I've been sat for ten minutes looking at the same article, recalling nothing about what I've read.

Throwing it carelessly to the side, I reach into my pocket to check for any new messages; there are none. Again, I find myself praying that they're surviving the 'Jessie and Jock' interrogation. They hate me almost as much as she does.

'I don't want you to love me! I don't want you to touch me, ever again!' The words she spat at me last week still tear at my shattered heart and I understand now why I ran from her. Fear of more rejection.

She wasn't acting as if she loathed me, though, when I'd caught her staring from inside the car. Far from it. At first, she appeared serene yet within seconds her expression had changed to one of need, and I recall now how she'd worn that same look the first time we were together in Fortrose, making me ache that she might still care for me.

Wriggling awkwardly at the memory, I adjust my position. I can't even think of her now without my own need growing in more ways than one, and it's happening every time I look at her.

"Can I get you another coffee, Mr Jacob?" The same girl asks placing a glass of water on the table before removing my empty cup. She's got to stop calling me that. I feel like my da!

"Why not?" I answer. "And it's Max. Plain and simple. Hold the syrup this time, yeah?"

                                                            ***************

I stare aimlessly at the empty plate in front of me. Lunch has been and gone, and I am now feeling like I should be paying rent on the table I've been perched at for hours. I check my phone again and as I do, her name and face appear on the screen. It's my favourite picture of her.

"Hi, Gracie." I say, trying to be upbeat. She likely thinks I'm a dick given my earlier behaviour.

"Hey. Are you far away? Can you come back for me?" I sense her voice shaking, maybe she's pissed at me.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry about..."

"It's fine, Max. Please, I need you to come now." Cutting me off, I sense she's upset. More than upset. In fact, I think she's crying.