All of Saturday and Sunday goes by quickly. I manage to drag Georgie to the store to buy a few things for the apartment and both of my evenings are spent talking to my parents on the phone. Poor Dad acts like he hasn't heard from me in years.

By the time Monday morning comes around, I'm more than excited for my first day at work. I leave a note on the bench for Georgie, who's unsurprisingly still asleep, explaining that I'll be home later, and then I drive to the small cafe. Since it's barely seven in the morning there are not many people around, but Molly greets me with a warm smile, obviously amused by how early I am.

"You know I said come in at eight, right?" She chuckles from the behind the counter she cleans, and I send her a shy smile, shrugging lightly.

"Sorry, I'm a little early."

"It's fine, love, come and I'll teach you all you need to know. It's really not that difficult." I step behind the counter when she gestures for me to come over, but I somehow doubt it's as easy as she makes it look.

We spend the next half an hour together as she explains the way around the large machines. I feel like I should be taking notes to remember all of this, but she brushes that idea off and tells me just to make everything with my heart. I'm not sure how to do that with coffee so we'll have to see how this goes.

"And that's about all there is to it, really," she finishes and giggles at the obvious confusion on my face. That really was a lot to remember.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine after a couple of goes."

"You seem to have a lot of faith in me," I answer unsurely as I glance about at the foreign space I'm going to have to get used to. "I don't want to let you down."

"Nonsense, you'll be great at this. I can tell, and look — you already have your first customer."

"Customer?" I turn to the door as it opens, followed by the chiming bell. The muscled beast of a man that steps inside makes me freeze and I suddenly forget everything Molly just told me. I turn to face her for help but she's disappearing around the corner, offering me a confident thumbs-up and reassuring smile. Is she really going to leave me?

"Straight black coffee, no sugar."

My gaze nervously meets the dark pair in front of me and I swallow dryly, suddenly unable to form any kind of sentence. In front of me, in all of his towering height and ripped, muscled glory, is Shawn Michaels.

He's even bigger up close. His shoulders are so wide he's almost twice my size. I feel as though I could be crushed if he even pushed me with his little finger that's no doubt as built as the rest of his athletic body.

"Did you not hear me?" His unfriendly voice snaps me from my zoned out daydream. He's wearing black workout gear that's all labelled Nike, which doesn't surprise me.

No doubt he's going to the gym to learn how to nearly kill more people.

"Uh... I... No?" I stumble over my words awkwardly as he lifts an eyebrow, tightening his structured jaw. "Black coffee, right?"

"No sugar," he adds, his voice just as monotone as when he first spoke. The no sugar part doesn't surprise me, nobody could look like he does and eat anything remotely unhealthy.

I don't say anything about how disgusting I find his order. Straight black coffee with no sugar? Eww.

"I totally know how to do this," I whisper under my breath in the false hope that I'll somehow remember how to work the cash register like Molly taught me. However, under the calculating gaze of this very wealthy, intimidating, and quite frankly extremely attractive fighter, I'm barely able to remember my own name.

"Is it that difficult to press a button and make a coffee?" I look back up at him, part of my hair falling over my face which I'm very grateful for. Thanks to my monthly gift being so close to arriving, I woke up with a few fresh acne spots that my natural makeup wasn't able to cover well enough. The man in front of me is flawless, even I can't deny that, and I feel like a totally insecure idiot being stared down by him.

"It's my first day." My voice sounds strange, completely filled with nerves, giving away just how much this tattooed supermodel terrifies me. I don't even know why I'm giving him an explanation. He doesn't need to be so rude and I can only hope Molly will appear soon and serve him to save me from further embarrassment.

"You should try the 'open till' button." The huskiness to his voice makes my head spin and I blink heavily, unable to focus on what I'm supposed to be doing. "The green one down at the bottom," he explains, and I suddenly realise what he's talking about.

"Right, sorry." My voice comes out quieter than I want it to as I press down on the button I was completely unable to find before. "That's four —"

He hands me the exact amount without needing to be told and I lift my fingers, taking the money from him. I pull my hand away quickly when the warmth of his rough skin brushes against mine, placing the coins in the cash register quickly as he openly examines me.

"Thank you." I swallow again, unable to mend the itchy dryness that's still stuck in my throat as I reach for one of the takeaway cups.

"Are you always this nervous when you make hot drinks?"

I move my fingers away from his gaze, unable to hide the way they tremble under his observing eyes.

"Do you always smirk after you beat someone up?" The question leaves my mouth before I can stop myself and I suddenly wish I'd never said anything at all to him in the first place. "I... didn't.... that just came out," I whisper, staring only at the coffee I'm making and not at him as he steps closer to the counter.

His proximity allows the cologne he's wearing to become evident; it's not overbearingly strong but it's heavy enough to make my already nervous stomach spin.

"You were at the fight on Friday?" If I'm not mistaken, I'm sure there's almost curiosity laced through his voice, but I'm sure I must be imagining that. "You don't look like the kind of person who'd be at a place like that."

"No, my friends wanted me to go," I finally answer, carefully letting the hot water flow into the cup like Molly showed me earlier. "I don't really enjoy watching people try to kill each other."

"I figured."

I look up at him again, feeling his gaze still unmoving from my red cheeks. My heart is an uneven mess, beating out of control, which only makes me feel more uneasy around him.

"Um," I stutter for what feels like the millionth time, unable to make my tongue cooperate with my brain. "Here's your coffee."

His fingers are so much longer than mine that they easily wrap around the hot cup as he takes it from me. For some reason, I expect some kind of thank you or have a nice day, but as soon as he walks out the door again without saying another word to me, I want to slap myself. I just acted like a silly schoolgirl in front of an incredibly arrogant, rude cage fighter who obviously enjoyed watching me struggle under his careful judgement.

I'm an idiot.

"Oh, love, that was brilliant." Molly finally decides to make an appearance now after leaving me to humiliate myself in front of Shawn.

"You should see how red your face is, you're adorable." She laughs, her kind eyes observing my very embarrassed face. "I'm glad you've already met my grandson."