Emma sighed heavily as she served the last table before her shift came to an end.

  Her entire body ached from three hours of nonstop running around—taking orders, serving them, smiling when she didn’t want to. She was famished but grateful that it was finally over.

  She knew it would get easier with time; first days were always the hardest.

  “Whew, finally,” she muttered, peeling off the café’s uniform and badge before placing them neatly on one of the racks in the workers’ closet. Grabbing her bag from the same row, she trudged out of the room, humming Fifth Harmony’s “Black Magic.”

  After waving a few tired goodbyes to her co-workers, Emma stepped out of the air-conditioned café and into the scorching sunlight. The heat hit her like a slap.

  Cursing under her breath, she pulled a yellow-striped scarf from her pocket and wiped her face vigorously, chasing away the stubborn beads of sweat forming across her forehead.

  “Hey.”

  A male voice called out, but Emma ignored it and kept walking. She wasn’t in the mood for guys who thought they were handsome enough to stop a girl mid-stride. They were all egotistical brats, she thought.

  “Hey!” the voice called again—closer this time—before a hand caught hers, halting her steps.

  “Yes?” she snapped, irritation flaring at his touch for no particular reason. She blamed it on exhaustion.

  Turning sharply, she found herself staring into a pair of deep blue eyes. For a fleeting second, Derek flashed across her mind—but this guy’s blond hair shattered the illusion.

  Scoffing under her breath, she silently scolded herself. Apparently, her mind had been thinking about the ponytailed blue-eyed guy far too much lately.

  “I’m sorry if I disturbed you,” the stranger said, smirking a little.

  He was amused by the fiery human glare aimed his way; it reminded him of his sister. But what really caught—and held—his attention was her hair. Deep red, wavy, and long, almost glowing under the sun. Fierce, yet strikingly beautiful.

  “I just saw you around the corner and thought—”

  “Chasing after another girl again?” a female voice interrupted, punctuating her words with a light knock on his head.

  “No, sis! I just wanted to say hello,” he protested, rubbing the sore spot and pouting like a scolded child.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Emma couldn’t help it—she smiled. Their matching blond hair and deep blue eyes gave away their sibling bond immediately. The playful bickering even reminded her of home. She missed Amelia.

  “Sorry for the disturbance my brother might have caused you,” the girl said apologetically, giving Emma an embarrassed smile. “He’s always like this.”

  Before Emma could respond, the sister grabbed her brother by the arm and dragged him toward a red car parked by the roadside.

  As they drove off, Emma sighed, watching the car disappear. When will I get my own car?

  She didn’t think she could keep up with all the walking—or keep calling Clem every day to pick her up for school. He’d gladly do it, she knew, but she hated feeling like a burden.

  “Guess I’ll be calling Papa sooner than I thought,” she muttered, crossing the road.

  Taking out her phone, she scrolled through her call log, debating between Clem and… Bean Head.

  She rolled her eyes at the nickname.

  “Should I call him?” she mused aloud, chewing her lip. But after a second’s thought, she shook her head and tapped Clem’s contact instead.

  No way was she letting Derek see her like this—hair frizzed, face slick with sweat.

  She had made a silent vow earlier in the café’s locker room to start carrying the essentials in her purse—powder, lip gloss, a comb—just like Amelia always did. Anything to avoid looking disheveled after a long shift.

  “Emma.”

  She froze. That voice—too familiar.

  Speak of the devil… she muttered, turning around slowly to face the owner of the voice.

  “You look exhausted,” Derek said as he walked up to her, his tone soft but teasing. He reached out to smooth a few wild strands of hair back into place, his fingers grazing her temple.

  “I know,” she replied flatly, trying—and failing—to ignore the fluttering sensation that shot through her chest at his touch.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, pretending to sound annoyed.

  “I came for you,” he said simply.

  Oh, he definitely knew how to use his words, Emma thought, looking away quickly before she melted under that gaze.

  “Let’s go. I brought a car.”

  Before she could protest, he took her bag, slinging it casually over his shoulder, and intertwined his fingers with hers like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  “Derek…” she whispered, her heart racing. His touch sent a shiver through her.

  If holding hands feels like this, what would a kiss do? The thought made her shudder.

  Derek frowned. “Are you feeling feverish?” he asked, concern lacing his voice as he cupped her face gently between his palms, his blue eyes scanning hers.

  Hell yeah, Emma screamed internally—but not the kind of fever he thought.

  She swallowed hard, trying to calm her heart, which was pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

  “No, I’m okay,” she finally said, easing his hands away from her face.

  Too young to die of a racing heart, she thought dryly, forcing herself to breathe evenly.