It was a Wednesday morning when it happened. As if the torrential rain wasn't enough, traffic was backed up; five to ten minutes delays any road you took. Carol Malvosé had not only overslept, she had yet to finish her paper for economics. She scrambled down the human clogged streets, very sorry she had left her umbrella at her apartment. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a sign for the CBV Café and ducked into the shop.

Of course, it was crowded, but warm. Carol sighed anxiously, tucking a stray strawberry blonde lock of hair away from her face. So much for straightening her hair for a half hour. Looks like the look of the day would have to be 'beachhead bum'.

"Mornin', Carol!"

Carol's head bounced as she noticed the cashier, Andre. She waved a hand briefly.

"Good morning, Andre," she replied, shuffling closer to the warm wooded counter.

"I'll be with you in a jiffy," the large black man said, nodding his head to the two customers in front of Carol.

"I'm in no rush," Carol smiled politely, shifting the multiple textbooks in her arm.

Her eyes darted around the café, searching for a decent seat. With the crowd, it was hard to spot a place. All the window seats were taken to her dismay. At last she pinned an open seat across from a dark-haired man in a tan leather jacket tucked away in a secluded corner of the cafe. He seemed to be occupied by the weather and the movement of the horde of bodies outside. With a sigh of relief, she turned back towards the counter, just as Andre slid over to her.

"Is it that bad outside?" he asked, cautiously.

Carol tucked another wet loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, especially if it freezes tonight," she admitted. "Be careful when you clock out."

Andre chuckled, shaking his head so his massive ponytail of dreadlocks jostled.

"So, what will it be today, my girl?" he offered. "Mocha venti? Or are you in a caramel frappe kind of mood?"

"Mocha," Carol sighed.

"You got it," the barista grinned. "Go find a seat and relax, girl. I'll bring it round when it's done."

"Thanks, Andre," she gave him a thankful smile.

She turned quickly, eager to see if her scouted chair was still available. The biker jacket was still there. Carol secured her books to her chest, shoving her heavy book bag behind her hip to avoid it slamming into obstacles, and quickly moved to the table.

As she approached, the man eyed her, his mouth pulling into a frown as he sipped his beverage. Short jet-black hair messily styled, icy blue eyes, and a young, yet experienced face; this guy was quite the looker. At least he would be if he didn't look like he was going to pound you.

"Excuse me, is anyone sitting there?" Carol asked courteously.

"I dunno," was the gruff response. "You tell me. Is there?"

Okay? Taking that as a yes, Carol pulled the spare chair away from the table. The slam of hefty boots on the tile flooring sounded rough to her ears as she slid into her seat. Her new table mate seemed annoyed, sitting up a little to leer over his steaming cup. Carol pulled her dull gray laptop from out of her bag and flipped it open. The stranger observed her actions silently and the air grew awkward.

"I hope you don't mind," Carol said apologetically. "I have a paper due today."

Before the man could reply, Andre slid over to them. He gently set down a foamy mug and smiled warmly. The aroma of milk chocolate swept over Carol and she rejoiced in her selection.

"There you go, Carol," he beamed. "Don't work yourself too hard."

"I won't," she half-heartedly promised.

Satisfied with her answer, Andre strolled away to his line of awaiting customers. Carol lifted her cup to her lip and took a tentative taste, burning her tongue as well as her lip on the hot coffee. Embarrassed, she glanced at the opposing guest. His gaze had shifted towards the closest window to their tight corner. Evidently not one for conversation. That was fine. Carol switched on her laptop and quickly began work on her assignment.

Ten minutes and a great many paragraphs later, Carol paused for a breather and a sip of chocolatey goodness. She stole a brief glance at the brawny gentle man before her. Gosh, those cheek bones could cut a mountain in two. She swallowed her caffeine, nearly choking on the beverage and her absurd thought. She could feel his incurious gaze, and as he shuffled out of his seat, in a flame of bravery, she opened her mouth.

"I like your jacket," she blurted out.

The man paused; his blue eyes transfixed momentarily.

"Huh?"

Heat fluttered under her cheeks, but Carol did her best to ignore her discomfiture with a smile.

"Your jacket," she tried again. "I think it's super cool."

The dark mess of hair dropped as he looked down at his coat before returning his attention to her.

"Uh, thanks," he said awkwardly.

He tugged on it lightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips, before departing. Carol was proud that she only stared for a few seconds before taking another swig of her mocha. Her eyes burrowed into the characters on her screen.

Normal guys do not have butts like that.

Carol shook her head franticly.

"Get it together, girl!" she hissed under her breath.

Her phone suddenly vibrated in her pocket. Carol retrieved it and peeked at the lock screen. The time flashed in bright white numbers; it was ten fifteen. She flew to her feet.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," she gasped, gathering her things in a flurry. "I'm gonna be late!"

Her book bag bursting and books tucked safely under her arm, she chugged the last of her coffee, waved bye to Andre, and flew out the door back into the cold. Her professor would kill her if she was late to Econ again.