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A Dash Of Hunter

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A small town bakery, a shy girl and one charming boy. What's the worst that could happen? **** As he placed his hands on my waist, I could feel my breathing become irregular and heavy. He began to lean in, in turn causing my heart to race. He removed one of his hands from my waist and began to caress my cheek. "You had some flour on your face." He said, chuckling at my facial expression. "O-oh." I stammered, feeling the heat rise to my face. "You know the brownies aren't the only thing heating up in here." He says with a grin as he pulls away and walks back over to the counter to make the buttercream frosting. I roll my eyes. "You big goofball" I say as I finish cleaning up the flour mess we had made. And what he didn't know was, the flour wasn't the only thing that was falling. Just like the flour spilling onto the floor I was also melting into a mess right in front of him. ***

Romance / Other
Age Rating:

One: Fates Collide

"Watch where you're going!" A voice shouts and as we collide I don't have time to react as my hand slips, spilling my iced mocha all over my shirt.

His eyes widen as he sees what just happened.

"Oh, crap! Sorry—" A jumbled mess of words escape the boys lips.

"It's—-" I start, but I'm cut off by feeling a hand cover mine.

"Follow me!" Suddenly I'm being drug across the room, heart racing ninety-to nothing.

"Really, it's okay!" I try to say as the boy shoved a wet cloth in my face.


"Thanks..." I trail, wiping at my now stained clothes. I survey the scenery before me, realizing he has drug me behind the counter of the small shop.

"Are you sure we're aloud back here?" The boy shrugs,making my insides flip with worry.

"Relax. My grandparents own the place."

"Yeah but I still don't know you."


"Thanks for ruining my shirt, I'm sure that will be a good staple as to why I'm late for class." I laugh, handing the small cloth back to him.

"I appreciate you trying to save my shirt, anyways." I say awkwardly,

"Yeah, don't get used to it." He smirks as I roll my eyes.

"Noted." I say, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

"Hey!" I hear behind me,

"Yeah?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Here's another Peppermint Mocha, but only this once." He winked, holding a cup out to me.

I flash a small smile at him, making my way back into the streets of New York and regretting the long walk to campus.


"So that's the reason you're late? Some kid spilled coffee onto your shirt?" My Professor eyed me.

"Yeah." I say and point to a stain on my shirt.

"Ookay..." He trailed, folding his arms across his chest.

I heard the door swing open behind me.

"It's true, Professor Henson, it was my fault." I could feel my insides twisting.

"Following me now, are we?" I say and walk over to my seat.

"Call it what you want, I was also trying to make it to class on time, but a clumsy girl had other plans." He shrugged, taking the seat beside me.

I rolled my eyes, trying to focus on the professor. The class was kind of small, only about fifty students so I don't see how I could have missed him. But then again, I have a tendency to focus deeply on my schoolwork and not my surroundings. Realizing this, it was easy as to how I missed him. I tried to ignore the flutter in my stomach as a hand softly touched mine and a piece of paper fell into my view. I glance over at the boy, a smirk playing at his lips. Thoughts raced through my head as I opened the paper, a messy scrabble on the other end.

I could barley make out the numbers on the paper and I had to fight a smile.

"Just in case you want to talk." He whispers.

"Noted." I say and stuff the piece of paper into my backpack before writing my own number down and giving it to him. I hoped I wouldn't come to regret it.
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