Read Online The BlackBurne Legacy (The Bloodlines Legacy Series Book 1) by Apryl Baker - Free Book Online Page A

today, I decide and close the door. Cereal is out as there is no milk. My stomach lets out a loud grumble, reminding me it waits for no one. One solution—The Coffee Shop.
    After a quick shower, I tug on a pair of jeans and my old Maroon 5 t-shirt. No clue who they are, really, except a band, and I only know that because Jason got the shirt for me at one of their concerts. There is no help for my hair, so I grab a scrunchie and do it up in a knot. I’ll detangle the mess later. I’m too hungry to wait the thirty minutes it will take to dry it.
    I jot a note for Jason and tape it to my closed door. No way he misses that. It’s warm outside, a gentle breeze blowing. The air in New York was never this fresh, even though Compton wasn’t in the city. This, though, this is crisp, clean air that seems to jump start my senses. It’s clean and pure. Just another reason I am learning to love West Virginia.
    The Coffee Shop comes into view a few minutes later, and just like before, the place is packed. I can smell the food from where I’m standing, and my stomach lets out a loud rumble. I’ve never before had it act like this, to demand food. I guess it started the morning after I arrived. It’s like I’m always hungry, whereas before, I could go all day and not eat a thing without noticing. And snacks do nothing to take the edge off. I want real food. It’s so weird.
    Just as I suspected, there isn’t an open seat anywhere, not even at the counter. Well, I can just order food to go, I guess. The same waitress from last week is behind the counter. What was her name…Beth Anne, I think. She looks up and gives me a friendly wave then turns back to pouring coffee for the customers at the counter.
    “Ah, munya , back again?”
    My head swivels to the left and I see Diner Guy, as I’ve nicknamed him, smiling at me. The odd thing is, it doesn’t reach his eyes. There is the slightest smirk playing with his lips. I have the insane urge to flip him off, but I refrain. Emma taught me better manners than that.
    “Good morning, sugar plum.” Beth Anne is in front of me, smile fixed in place. Her eyes are as happy as the smile on her face. “You want to order something to go? I wish I had a table for you, but this crowd will be here a while.”
    “She can share my table.”
    Diner Guy. I open my mouth to say no, but my stomach growls loudly. I snap it shut in embarrassment. Feed the beast, I think. My hunger outweighs my urge to turn and run from the mocking green eyes daring me to sit. Beth Anne looks none too pleased when I slide in the booth, but she takes my order and promises to have it out as soon as she can.
    “No more late night runs?” He sips his coffee and gives me his best sardonic smile.
    “No more late night walks?” I nurse my water, keeping my expression neutral. Something about him makes me want to hit him. I don’t understand it, but the urge is there.
    “We are no properly introduced. I am Luka Rinaldi.”
    His English is mostly good, but I don’t point out his small slip up. He didn’t grow up here, and it’s rude to point things out. Manners and all that.
    “Alexandria Reed.” My gaze keeps landing on his arms. A tattoo snakes up his arm and hides under the sleeve of his shirt, his muscles flexing with every small movement. Heat begins to seep through me and my stomach flutters, but in a good way.
    “You’re from Romania?” I ask, trying to focus on anything but the slight nausea.
    “I am Romani.”
    “There’s a difference between Romanian and Romani?”
    “ Arvah .”
    “What?” What the heck does that mean?
    A laugh rumbles out of him. “Sorry. Arvah is yes. They are no the same.”
    Beth Anne brings me my massive plate of biscuits and gravy with a side of bacon and eggs. I swear, I’m starting to eat as much as Jason, but I’m running every day too. Maybe that’s why I have this humongous appetite.
    I murmur a low thank you and dive in. The minute the slightly peppery gravy hits my