The girl in the apron
836 Words
The "Rusty Griddle" was the kind of diner where the coffee was burnt and the air always smelled of old grease. It was miles away from the neon lights of the stadium, hidden in a part of town where people came when they wanted to be forgotten.
Sophie checked the clock. 11:30 PM.
Her feet were throbbing inside her cheap sneakers. She had already worked an eight-hour shift at the lighting company, and now she was four hours into her second job. She wiped down a sticky table, her movements slow and heavy.
Every time she paused, her mind drifted back to the hallway. To the gold eyes. To the name Ophelia.
"Order up, Sophie!" the cook yelled, slamming a plate of fries onto the counter.
She sighed, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Coming."
She was reaching for the plate when the bell above the door chimed. It wasn't the usual sound of a tired construction worker or a local drunk coming in for a late meal. The air in the diner suddenly felt pressurized. Like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.
A black SUV sat idling in the dark parking lot outside. Inside, Alchie gripped the steering wheel so hard the leather groaned.
"She's in there," Jax said, looking at his tablet.
"Sophie Miller. No criminal record. Her high school records are... spotty. Almost like they were written in a hurry. She lives with her father and a sick mother."
Alchie didn't wait for Jax to finish. He opened the door and stepped out into the cold night air. He wasn't wearing his gold mask or his stage clothes.
He wore a heavy black hoodie and a baseball cap pulled low, but he couldn't hide his size or the way he moved like a predator.
He pushed open the diner door. The smell of cheap oil hit him, but beneath it, his wolf caught the trail.
Vanilla and rain.
His heart hammered against his ribs. He scanned the room and found her.
She was wearing a faded green apron with a coffee stain on the pocket. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She looked exhausted. She looked human.
But to Alchie , she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. It was her. It was really her.
Alchie slid into a booth in the far corner, keeping his face in the shadows. He watched her for a moment. He watched her forced a polite smile at a rude customer. He watched her wince as she stretched her back.
It made his blood boil. His mate, the Queen of the Vordstarwood Pack, was serving coffee to strangers for pennies.
Sophie walked toward his booth, her notepad ready. She didn't look at his face at first.
"Welcome to the Griddle. Can I get you started with some?" She stopped.
The air between them seemed to hum. She felt that same strange heat from the hallway crawling up her arms. Her hand, the one holding the pen, began to shake.
"Coffee," he said.
His voice was a low, rough rumble. Sophie’s breath hitched. She knew that voice. She had heard it in her dreams; she had heard it while her head was exploding with visions of fire.
She looked up, meeting his eyes beneath the brim of the hat. Even in the dim light of the diner, they glowed with a faint, amber light.
"It’s you," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the jukebox.
"You didn't get your phone," Alchie said, his gaze fixed on her face. He reached into his pocket and placed a sleek, expensive phone on the table. It wasn't her old phone; it was brand new, the best model money could buy.
"I thought I'd bring it to you."
Sophie stared at the phone, then back at him.
"How did you find me? Who are you, really?" Her voice dropped.
Alchie leaned forward, his face inches from hers. The scent of her pure, sweet, and haunting filled his senses. He wanted to reach out and pull her over the table. He wanted to tell her everything.
"My name is Alchie," he said. "And you aren't who you think you are, Sophie."
Before she could respond, the door to the diner swung open again. It was Max, still wearing his thick glasses, an umbrella hooked over his arm.
"Soph! I thought I'd walk you home," Max called out, his eyes scanning the room.
Alchie ’s eyes flashed a dangerous gold. His wolf let out a silent, jealous snarl. He looked at the nerdy human boy, then back at Sophie.
"Is that him?" Alchie asked, his voice dropping to a growl. "Is that the one who thinks you belong to him?”
- Writer
