Chapter 15

Home / The Change Up (CTU Eagles Book 2) / Chapter 15

The Change Up (CTU Eagles Book 2)

Alexis Buxton

Add to Library

Chapters

Settings

THEN

"Hey hon, can you take my table in the back for me?" Marnie, the owner of Marnie's Diner, asked me.

Placing the rag I was using to wipe down the counter in the bucket on the shelf, I make my way over to take a new order. I've been working at Marnie's Diner since I was a freshman in high school. I started out clearing tables and being a dishwasher, until halfway through my sophomore year when Marnie moved me to waitress. She works with my school schedule to make sure that I'm getting enough hours while still maintaining my grades.

Now I'm two months away from moving from Dallas for the first time and starting my first year at Central Texas University. While my dad could pull strings and get me a job anywhere or at any restaurant in the city—including his—he wanted me to learn the industry by starting at the bottom. Not that Marnie's is the bottom, because the diner does incredibly well. It's a staple in the neighborhood and has recently been featured in a few travel magazines for its unique 1950s flare and incredible home-style recipes.

Even though at fourteen, and after years of spending my free time in my dad's upscale restaurants, I always pictured that my first job would be working alongside my dad, I didn't realize how privileged that dream was. But at eighteen, I'm really glad I was able to experience working in the diner. It's been a lot of fun, and it's not as high pressure as my dad's restaurant. And the people I work alongside have inspired me to pursue my journalism degree. Each one of my coworkers has a story. They've struggled to make ends meet, they have a love of cooking, and they are paving their own path in the restaurant industry. Not everyone starts out and goes straight to the Food Network level.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my purple-covered notepad and pen to take the newcomers' order. Glancing up, my feet falter at the two guys sitting at the table. Both are gorgeous with their messy, damp hair, and muscles on full display thanks to their cutoff shirts, but it's the one sitting facing me who causes me to lose my footing.

He's stunning.

Warm hazel eyes are the perfect mixture of green, blue, yellow, and brown, with flecks of gold that shine even in the fluorescent lighting of the diner. His dark-brown hair is messy as if he's been running his hands through it all morning. But it's his smile that makes me weak in the knees. Straight, white teeth surrounded by full lips that have me wanting to know how they would feel pressed against mine.

I watch as he tilts his head back, exposing the long column of his throat, and watch his sharp Adam's apple bob up and down. His hazel eyes find mine, and I swear I melt right there on the spot from the contact.

Stopping at the edge of their table, I try to clear my throat and form words. The two guys are hot, and I quickly find myself unable to speak. I've never seen either of them before, and I know I would've definitely remembered them, especially hazel eyes.

"H-hi, I'm Chloe, and I'll be your waitress this morning."

"Hi, Chloe," the boy sitting across from hazel eyes greets. I look down with a smile and notice that he has a stunning shade of icy blue eyes.

"What can I get you guys to drink?"

They each list off their drink order: Blue Eyes orders a black coffee with cream, and Hazel Eyes orders a black coffee and water.

I go to tuck my notepad back in my apron and find those hazel eyes still staring at me. Chewing on my bottom lip, I give a small smile and let them know I'll be back with their drinks.

Reaching for the coffee pot, Marnie slides up beside me. "I thought you'd appreciate that table a little more than me."

"Marnie!"

"What?" she asks, amusement lacing her words. "They're cute and way too young for my fifty-year-old self."

I shake my head as I go back to getting their drinks.

The rest of their dining experience is spent with me fumbling over words, avoiding eye contact, blushing whenever my avoidance of eye contact failed me, and feeling like the biggest virgin ever. Of course, I was, but I didn't need to constantly act like it. It felt like there was a neon sign pointing down on me flashing brightly, letting everyone in the diner know that I've never been touched.

Hazel Eyes tracks my path back to deliver their drinks. Under his watchful gaze, I feel my body start to heat and shake.

Please don't let me drop this tray. Please don't let me make a fool of myself.

With a small smile, I set the drinks down in front of the guys.

"Dude, I'm glad Coach moved our practice to the field down the road. This place is sweet," Blue Eyes says, glancing around the diner. "It's like we walked back in time. I can dig it."

I watch as Hazel Eyes runs his hand over the back of the shiny, red leather seat. "Yeah, it's pretty awesome."

My eyes find his as he turns his attention back to me, and I feel the heat creep up mycheeks. Running my hands down my peach-colored uniform, I clear my throat and reach for my notepad.

"Do you guys need a minute, or are you ready to order?"

Blue Eyes skims the menu before closing it. "I'll do the southwest omelet, wheat toast, a side of fruit, and a side of bacon."

I jot down his order and turn my attention to Hazel Eyes. "Can I get the same, but add a cinnamon roll on the side?"

"Sure. Would you like the cinnamon roll out now while you wait?"

"Yeah, that'd be awesome."

With a quick nod and a tight smile, I head back to the kitchen to put their order in.

A few minutes after I've dropped off their fruit and Hazel Eye's cinnamon roll, the bell chimes notifying me their order is up. The guys dig in immediately after I place their plates in front of them, and I leave the bill for them to pay whenever they are done.

I'm so busy with the morning rush—taking orders and wiping down tables—that I don't see the guys leave. Disappointment floods my lower belly, and I internally curse myself for the feeling. I don't know these guys, and they don't know me. Blue Eyes mentioned that their coach moved practice, and since I've never seen them before, I assume they are part of the college baseball summer league. Every May through August, guys from all over the country come to our little suburb and play for the local baseball team.

Striding over to their empty table with a mixture of relief and sadness, I quickly begin clearing the empty dishes. Piling the plates together—I'm amazed at how much these two ate—I swipe the check off the table with the cash they left behind. There's writing underneath the signature that catches my eye.

You have a beautiful smile.

Pulling my lip between my teeth, I nibble as a bashful grin pulls at my lips. If only I knew which one of the two wrote the note.

For the next week, Blue Eyes and Hazel Eyes show up for breakfast where they order the same thing each morning.

And one of them leaves me a sweet message at the bottom of their receipt.

You have a beautiful smile.

You pour a mean cup of coffee.

You're sunshine on a rainy day.

Wildflowers. That's what your scent reminds me of.

The blue of your uniform makes your eyes shine bright.

I love the ribbons you wear in your hair.

Rough practices are worth it when I get to see you after.

On the eighth day in a row, only Hazel Eyes shows up to the diner.

"H-hi." Running my hand down my dress, I glance up at him. The nerves pour off me like a rainstorm. The two made me nervous together, but now that only one of them is here, I feel intimidated, when I shouldn't, but I haven't been able to get hazel eyes and dark hair out of my head the entire week that I've waited on them.

"Morning." Hazel Eyes closes his menu—I don't know why he bothers to even open it—and leans forward until he's resting his weight on his elbows. "I'll take my usual, please."

With a smile and a nod, I turn to walk away. There's no need to write down his order, I have it memorized.

Later when I drop off his order, I grow a backbone and decide to make conversation. "So I haven't noticed you before. Are you just in town from the summer?"

He nods his head in response. "Yeah, I'm from Georgia. This is my first summer playing summer collegiate ball."

"That's really cool. I've never been to a baseball game."

His jaw drops. "Never?"

"Never. Um, I'm not much of a sports girl. I'm more of a homebody who would rather stay in and read."

Shaking his head, I watch as he runs his fingers through his messy dark hair. "You have to come to one game."

"We'll see," I respond with a smile.

"Chloe," Chef Steve calls from the kitchen. "Order up!"

Glancing over my shoulder, I watch as the chef places plates on the silver tray.

"I've got to grab that. Let me know if you need anything."

Turning on my toes, I make my way back to the kitchen. As much as I enjoy the company of Hazel Eyes, he always comes at the peak breakfast rush. Once again, I'm too busy to make it back to his table. Out of the corner of my eyes, I watch him slip out the door. Sighing, I head to clear his table.

Just like all the other times, there's a note underneath his signature.

Go on a date with me? I'll be waiting for your answer.

I read over the note five times, and when I look out the window, I catch Hazel Eyes watching me as he gets in his car. He tosses me a wink and a flirty smirk that has me warming from the inside out.

I'm a flustered mess for the rest of my shift. Marnie eventually sent me home early after my third mistake. Climbing into my beat-up Honda, I drive home ,and it's on that drive home I start to worry about going on a date.

I've never been on a date. Hell, I've never had a guy give me any type of attention. My entire time in school I was ignored by the opposite sex unless they were making a joke at my expense. And now I've been asked out on a date by a guy who is entirely out of my league.

What do I wear? How do I act?

It's not like I have a mom to ask these questions of or even any girlfriends. I guess I could ask Marnie, but she doesn't date.

Why him? Out of all the guys in the universe, does it have to be the hot baseball guy?

He's the hot jock who gets the popular girl, and I'm the girl who waits on them at the diner after they've had the most glorious night together.

I'm not the girl that gets the guy.

And now I'm beginning to wonder if this is some kind of bet Hazel Eyes and Blue Eyes have with each other.

Is that why he was by himself today?

I couldn't sleep last night. Hours of endless tossing and turning. I heard my dad come home from the restaurant at two o'clock, and I waited until he went to bed before turning on my table lamp and pulling out the current paperback I was devouring. I knew if I would've turned my light on before he went to sleep, he'd be in right away to lecture me on how I needed sleep, or he'd be asking me twenty questions to find out why I wasn't sleeping.

My dad took the worried parent role on as soon as my mom left. He fusses over everything, and if I would've said I got asked out by a boy in town for the summer, he would have immediately told me to shut it down. Or he'd invite the guy over for an interrogation meal, and I was not about to have that happen.

When my alarm went off at a quarter after four, I jumped out of bed and went straight to the shower. Exhaustion weighed heavily on me as I only slept for maybe an hour. Typically, I put zero effort into my appearance. I work at a diner and end up smelling like fried food after every shift. But knowing that Hazel Eyes would be waiting for a response to his question had me flustered. I spent extra time curling my honey-blond hair, I added minimal makeup with extra coats of mascara before swiping on a long-lasting pink lip color. Staring at myself in the mirror I looked like a different girl. Sure I was still Chloe Mariano, but a prettier, more put-together version.

Whistles greeted me as I entered the kitchen of Marnie's. My cheeks flamed, and I instantly wondered if I was overdoing it.

"Hey, Marnie, who's the new girl?" Chef Steve called out. Marnie stepped out of her office, and her smile lit up her face.

"Oh, Chloe, girl, you look beautiful. Does your new look have anything to do with the two hotties who keep coming and requesting a table in your section?"

Blushing, I cut Marnie a glare as I tried to relay to her that she was embarrassing me in front of the whole crew. "I couldn't sleep last night so I had extra time to get ready this morning."

"Uh-huh." Marnie heads back to her office as she hums a tune that I can't place, but if I had to guess, it is something romantic. Marnie has been without her husband for nine years, but that hasn't deterred her from love.

The hours seem to fly by as I spend the first few hours of my shift going from table to table taking orders, cleaning tables, and rolling silverware into napkins. At 8:45, I'm ringing a to-go order when the bell above the door chimes. Instantly, I can feel his gaze land on me. My blood starts pumping through my body, and my cheeks flame, no doubt with a pink hue that the customer in front of me can clearly see.

Glancing up, I watch Blue Eyes and Hazel Eyes follow Marnie to their booth in the back—the same one they sit in every day. As he's following Marnie, Hazel Eyes turns, and his eyes lock onto mine. He flashes me the briefest smirk that would have my panties combusting if I were that type of girl. Clearing my throat, I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ears and finish ringing out a dozen cinnamon rolls and a box of coffee.

As my customer leaves the front counter, I rush through the kitchen doors. Finding the tiny mirror Marnie had installed on the wall, I take in my appearance. Not bad after three hours of work. With an internal pep talk, I run my damp palms down the front of my white apron.

You can do this. You can talk to hot guys. You can say yes to a date. You deserve this, Chloe Mariano.

Pushing my way through the door, I let my feet carry me to the corner booth where Hazel Eyes is watching my every move. Nerves swim through my system.

"Good morning." My voice comes out way more chirpier than it normally does and instantly Hazel Eyes lights up.

"Morning, Chloe." His bright white smile takes over his face, and I can't help the smile that follows across mine. The two of us lock eyes and silence falls over the booth. It feels like hours are spent as we both try to decipher the other.

Blue Eyes clears his throat, and I turn my attention to him. "Sorry about that. Would you like your usual?"

"That'd be great." Blue Eyes hands me his menu, and he turns his attention to his friend.

Hazel Eyes assesses me, and I swear it's like I'm standing in front of him naked. "I'll take the usual as well."

"Great, I'll go put that in for you both." I take the menus that Blue Eyes has extended and go to turn on my heels. Hazel Eyes stops me before I have a chance to walk away.

"Chloe, um…" He pauses, and a boyish grin takes over his face. "Have you had a chance to think about that date?"

Heat flares from my head to toe, and I imagine I'm about as red as our seats. Of course, I've thought about a date. It's the only thing I've been thinking about for the past twenty-four hours.

"I have given it much thought. Unfortunately, I don't feel comfortable going on a date with a boy I've just met and whose name I don't know."

I take my opening to walk away as I hear Blue Eyes scold Hazel Eyes about how he could ask for a date without offering their names.

"It's Cody, Cody Jacobs, and he's Hudson Larsen." Cody introduces himself in front of the busy rush inside Marnie's Diner.

I pause before I have a chance to get to the counter, turning slowly.

"I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself sooner. Truth is, you're beautiful, and it's intimidating. I just couldn't help but come here every day for the past week and a half because it means I get to see you."

Placing one foot in front of the other, Cody erases the space between us until he's standing right before me. He's tall, a lot taller than I would've guessed, with seven or eight inches on me. His navy Atlanta Braves T-shirt hugs his tight athletic build. I can only imagine the muscles and ridges that are hidden beneath the cotton.

"Hi, Cody." The words come out in a breathless whisper as we've officially garnered the attention of the entire restaurant. Customers have abandoned their meals and are enjoying the show between the two of us.

"Hi." That boyish grin is back on his face, and it's contagious, causing a smile to spread across my lips. Instead of messy hair, a navy Braves hat sits on his dark locks. Cody reaches up, removing his hat before running his fingers through his unruly hair. Instead of returning his hat forward facing, Cody spins it around and rests it backward.

I swear my knees go weak. There's just something about a man with a backward ball cap.

Leaning forward, he lowers his voice before asking, "Now that you know my name, would you like to go out with me?"

Nibbling on my lower lip, I take in the man in front of me. "Yes."

"Really?" Shock replaces the boyish grin as I nod assuring him that I'm serious about the date. "What time do you get off?"

"12:30!" Marnie shouts from somewhere behind me. My eyes widen as I look over my shoulder and find Marnie behind the counter with her hip perched against the metal material watching our entire conversation.

"Perfect, I can pick you up then."

"I'll need to shower after this," I say before dropping my voice for only Cody to hear. "I'll smell like the fryer."

He nods with a pondering expression. "I'll let you get back to it."

"Thanks. I'll get your order in."

We both turn, but not before we both glance back over our shoulders with silly grins pasted on our faces. I hurry to input their order before scurrying off through the swinging doors that lead into the kitchen. Marnie is hot on my heels as I lead the way to her office. She shuts the door behind her, and I let out a girlish squeal.

"Oh, my sweet girl, I'm so happy for you." Marnie squeezes me in her arms.

Since working for Marnie, she's quickly become a stand-in mom. There have been many times I've come to her for advice, a shoulder to cry on, and to talk about lady issues that I didn't want to talk to my dad about.

"Cut out early. I'll cover your section, and the tips are yours."

"Marn, I can't do that."

"Yes, baby girl. You can, and you will."

The bell in the kitchen chimes, and I hear Chef Steve call out my name.

I walk like I'm floating on a cloud for the rest of my shift. Marnie kicks me out thirty minutes before my shift is over. Cody and I exchanged numbers, and he texted me the details of our date.

For the next seven weeks, my days start with a ‘good morning' text from Cody. Hudson and he have the same breakfast every morning—unless they are traveling—and the rest of my days and nights are spent with Cody Jacobs.

It was a summer when we were inseparable.

It was a summer where we didn't talk about what came next.

It was a summer where we lived in the present with no talks of the future.

Day dates, baseball games, breakfast at the diner, a weekend trip to Galveston, and everything in between.

It was the summer of Chloe and Cody…

Until it wasn't

5:05 AM

Me: Good Morning :)

10: 22 AM

Me: Missed you at the diner this morning. See you after my shift?

12:05 PM

Me: Cody? Are we still meeting?