I watch her as she sits down at a table at the long bar that faces the window that looks outside. She chooses a seat in the farthest corner, which is kind of a raised booth seat for one. I'll admit, when I have to work the night shift and no one comes in, that is my favorite place to sit because I get a great view of the stars, and I can use my portable small paint kit to paint them on my hand, or on a small canvas I had with me for some strange reason. I guess that's what I get for being an art student; I notice things like that.
"Order up for Peyton and Nigella," I say, no need to raise my voice. A man comes up to retrieve both drinks, and hands one to the woman who walks up with him. She gives him a tender grin as he hands her the drink for Nigella, which I guess is her.
I want a girl to look at me like that.
I want Sailor to look at me like that - wait, what?! Where did that thought even come from! Sailor and I aren't even able to call each other acquaintances, and I want her to look at me like I'm the love of her life?!
I can't be wanting that! She's way out of my league!
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