"No, Trevor. I've told you."
He reached out. "Lexi—"
"No." She withdrew her hand. "Don't."
"Don't what?" he asked.
He looked at her across the coffee table. Around them the life of the city went on. People walked past the sidewalk cafe, going about their lives.
Anger swelled. "Look Lexi. For God's sake. Everything can't be—"
"Can't be what? Tell me that. Can't be what?"
He opened his mouth to answer, but she continued. "I live my life as I choose." Each word was bitten off, sharp around the edges. "I never asked you to change how you live. Don't you dare ask me to."
He almost growled as he forced himself to speak.
"You're so damned inflexible."
"Ha!" She laughed, she actually laughed at him.
"I distinctly recall you saying I was incredibly flexible." Her voice was a soft purr.
"You know damn well what I mean."
She stood and threw twice the cost of their coffee on the table.
"Give the change to the young one serving us. Maybe you'll find her more biddable."
Before he had a chance to reply, Lexi spun on her heel and stalked away.
He stared at her as she advanced through the crowd, people moving smoothly out of her way, till she was lost to his sight.
Entrances and exits, he thought. Her specialities.
Lexi was special in every way he knew, and probably some he didn't. He smiled ruefully and looked down at his coffee.
A screech of brakes, tires protesting their abuse, brought his head up with a snap.
He stood up quickly, bumping against the table. Coffee sloshed over the rim of his cup and splashed his camel hair coat.
He moved quickly along the path she'd taken. People were milling about. A car stopped.
But no Lexi. It was just some near-accident.
He stood at the edge of the street, his heart racing. Again he smiled ruefully. Even when she wasn't around, she could get his heart racing.
How was he going to live with her? Living without her didn't seem possible - or worthwhile
Trevor looked down and swore. Brushing at the stain on his coat, he stepped from the curb.
He never even saw the car.