Your Number

4:25 PM

Carmen's POV

I have never been this sweaty in my entire life. My palms are disgustingly wet, my socks are not socks anymore, and my mental state is even worse that all those things combined. Did I mention my nails are getting smaller by the second as I wait for my mystery guy. The tacos are in front of me and they are the key factor of why the realization is hitting me hard.

The bell signaling someone entering the coffee shop goes off and I jump. To my disappointment (and joy because I wasn't ready) it's only a older woman. Unless....nah. That wouldn't even make sense.

I have gotten strange looks from people when they see my tacos. I bought a drink here so that I could use their space without feeling guilty about sitting here with tacos.

If he doesn't come soon I might eat one myself. I made three. It will shrink down to two tacos if I am disappointed in the results because I have a spare one in my bag.

Lost in my thoughts, I don't even notice when the bell chimes again.

In a swift movement from behind,
a bag of chocolate chip cookies is place in front of me. At first (for some paradox of a reason) I am not phased. Then I realize what this actually means and my mind pauses for a solid minute as I comprehend what's about to happen.

Holy sh-

"Carmen..."

My whole body freezes as I listen to my name being rolled of the person't tongue. It leaves a complex feeling in my stomach. It's a bitter sweet voice that I can pin point from a whole room away.
I prepare myself for what's to come. How did I not know? Of course this wouldn't work in my favor. Only two tacos for this guy.

I turn around slowly. At first I analyze his shoes as I make my way up to his to his annoying(but...hot face) face. By the time my eyes meet his, I'm already regretting ever replying to that number.

"Holden. I have the tacos."