Jameson’s POV
It took me three attempts before I got to the right café and spotted my vixen huddled in the corner of a small family run establishment stirring a cup that I guessed had hot chocolate in it. As I approached, I could see that she hadn’t taken a single sip of the drink and it was more than likely stone cold by now.
My heart lurched as I noticed the track marks on her cheeks from the tears, her eyes red underneath the curtain of hair that she was hiding behind.
‘Can I sit here?’ I asked softly when I stopped in front of her, nervously running my finger over the empty chair beside her.
Aniyah jumped at my voice, her gaze snapping to mine before dropping back to her cup as she shrugged. ‘It’s a free country’ she muttered, ‘you have the right to sit wherever you want.’
Pulling
