Love at First Stoplight - Book cover

Love at First Stoplight


I Like the Socks


I turned to look at the voice, squinting my eyes, trying to make out the face of the guy in the dark. And boy did my eyes widen. DAMN.

I don’t know if maybe I’m drunk... because holy shit! This guy looks like he came straight out of a Calvin Klein ad.

He was wearing a leather jacket, but even through the thick material, I knew he had the muscles to back up that handsome face.

Speaking of that face…

“A picture lasts longer, sweetheart,” he said with a smirk, and I felt my cheeks heat up.

“I—uh, sorry.” I dropped my head once again on my steering wheel, embarrassed about what had happened. I was openly checking him out!

The guy chuckled at my response and leaned forward on his motorcycle casually. Casually, yet he looks like he’s modeling for Vogue.

“I’m just joking, you know.” He smiled, dimples showing on both cheeks. Bloody hell, he even had dimples!

I peeked from the side and saw his smirk growing wide.

He was very handsome, and the leather jacket plus motorcycle thing is only adding brownie points to his already bad boy charm.

He was looking ahead, and I couldn’t help myself from admiring the view. From the looks of it, he didn’t seem to be that much older than me, maybe three or five years, tops?

I guess I was staring again because he turned to me suddenly, a teasing smirk plastered on his face.

“Well, catch you later,” he said, winking. Before I could even reply, he was already driving off, a loud purr sounding from his motorcycle as I watched him disappear from sight.

“What the hell just happened?” I murmured to myself before driving to my destination.

No more distractions, I thought. I needed my fix, and going to the two men I knew who’d never hurt me was my top priority.


Parking my car, I made sure to roll up the windows and lock the doors. My car was far from fancy, but it was still my baby.

I was headed toward the building when my phone started buzzing. Answering it without checking, I put my phone to my ear while I pushed open the doors, a quiet ring sounding.



Wincing at the loudness of Hugh’s voice, I pulled my phone away until I heard him calming down.

“Oh my God, Hugh! I’m not at some bar, so chill! I’m just buying Ben and Jerry’s, okay?” I explained.

Yes, Ben and Jerry, the two guys I know won’t ever hurt me. Okay, maybe my weight will be in question, but that’s beside the point.

I walked toward the frozen aisle and took one Cookies and Cream Cheesecake, one Brownie Batter, and of course, one Chocolate Therapy—couldn’t forget that one, could we?

“Hello? Hellooo? Cami, what the fuck, are you still there?”

I forgot I was still on the line with Hugh. I was kind of preoccupied with my ice cream.

“Yeah sorry, I was choosing flavors…”

Before I could continue, I saw a mop of dark hair from the other aisle, and when he walked over to the cashier, I immediately tensed up. It was the hot motorcycle guy from earlier.

I quickly hid behind the shelves, hoping he hadn’t seen me. I hadn’t exactly had the nicest of impressions on him and I wasn’t about to let him see me like this. Much less with my fuzzy striped socks!

“Cami? I swear to God, if you forget me one more time…” Hugh threatened.

“Sorry! It’s just that this guy I saw earlier is here—” I whispered.

“What guy? Is he hot?” my best friend asked. I rolled my eyes at him, but I forgot I was on my phone.

“Very…” I said unconsciously as I remembered our earlier encounter.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I whispered on the phone, “I mean no—yes, ugh, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Ending the call, I balanced the tubs of ice cream with my chin as I stayed silent in the corner of the aisle.

When I heard the familiar ring of the door’s mini bell, I took it as my cue that he’d left. Releasing a breath I hadn’t noticed I was holding, I walked toward the cashier and put my ice cream on the counter.

The lanky teenage cashier eyed me and my three tubs of ice cream. I could feel the judgment, but I didn’t give a damn anymore. He proceeded to scan the items and placed them in a plastic bag.

I paid for it and mumbled a thanks. Pushing the doors open, I was instantly greeted by the cold wind.

Before I could take another step, a familiar deep voice asked, “Had a rough day?”

Startled, I let out a small yelp and almost dropped my precious cargo. I snapped my head toward the voice, and it was the same guy I’d seen earlier, leaning nonchalantly on his motorcycle, a can of beer in his right hand.

Well, there goes my chances of being unseen in all my messy-haired, baggy-clothed, crazy-fuzzy-socked glory in front of a hot guy. This isn’t really my day.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you again,” he said, chuckling.

“I’m glad you find me amusing,” I said, rolling my eyes at him.

“That I do,” he said, smirking.

“Wait, what?” I snapped my gaze at him for the second time.

“So, had a rough day?” he said, avoiding my question. He was eyeing my tubs of ice cream, and I felt my cheeks getting hotter by the second.

Why me?

“I could say the same thing about you,” I said bravely, raising an eyebrow while eyeing his can of beer.

“Touché, sweetheart. Although I think mine wouldn’t compare to yours, judging by the number of tubs in that bag,” he teased.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I remember asking for your opinion,” I retorted.

The guy laughed at me. Laughed.

Wow, I’m on a roll. I’ve been making a fool out of myself every time I see him, I thought dejectedly.

“You’re feisty. I like you. What’s your name?” he asked.

My eyes widened at his statement, and my ability to comprehend his words kind of started buffering after the word “like.” I must’ve stared too long because he had that smug look on him again.

“Cami,” I answered unsurely. “And you are…?” I trailed.

“You don’t know who I am?” he asked, surprised by my question. He was genuinely asking, and didn’t come across as arrogant at all.

“I’m supposed to know you because…?”

“You really don’t know who I am?” he asked as he looked thoughtful.

“You know, asking a second time won’t make me suddenly recognize you,” I replied.

Should I know this man? I’m trying to rack my brain for clues on where I might have seen him, but nothing comes to mind.

And maybe the fact that I’m kind of preoccupied with the whole cheating and break up doesn’t help my situation at all.

He mumbled something to himself, but I couldn’t catch anything of what he said.

“What did you say?” I asked.

“I’m Nick,” he introduced himself. He was looking directly at my face, probably gauging my reaction.

“Yeah... no, doesn’t ring a bell,” I concluded.

He smiled, and I swear I saw a glint of humor flash in his eyes.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you and all, Nick, but I have to go,” I said.

As much as I would’ve loved to stay and chat with a handsome guy such as him, I had my priorities straight. Ice cream.

“Of course, those ice creams won’t eat themselves, right, sweetheart?” he said as he hopped on his bike and put on his helmet.

“Ha, ha.” Grimacing at him, I offered a sarcastic laugh at his remark.

I opened the door of my car and leaned inside, placing the bag on the passenger seat.

When I looked up, Nick was staring at me seriously. He cleared his throat, and the smug smile was back again.

“It’s nice to meet you, Cami. Until next time?” he offered.

“Yeah, sure…,” I answered unsurely.

Next time? Maybe he only said that to be polite. Yeah, that’s it.

Before I even got to close my door, his voice suddenly interrupted.

“By the way,” he said.


“I like the socks.” He winked and laughed at my reaction. Closing his helmet, he drove away from the parking lot, leaving me behind blushing like an idiot.

“Why me?” I facepalmed myself as I made my way home.

Next chapter

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