Page 61 of It's a Brewtiful Day
That snapped Elliot's gaze in my direction.
“Hey.” I side-eyed Elliot, who was standing with his back to me. “I'll get a maple twist macchiato to go please.”
“Sure thing.” She punched in my order and ripped off the sticker, affixing it to a take-out cup which only came in one size—not nearly big enough.
I leaned closer and kept my voice barely above a whisper. “And please add all the things we had last Wednesday. You still haven't sent me a bill.”
“It's all good. Didn't Elliot tell you?” Nina’s left shoulder dipped as she glanced toward her employee.
I shook my head and looked back in his direction. The navy shirt—the one he wore thatnight—was pulled up his forearms, showing off the well-defined muscles that had kept me safe. His head was tucked down, his hair falling in waves across his forehead, and he appeared laser-focused on making an espresso-based drink.
“I'm glad you both were safe.” She set my cup over by the coffee station and stepped back in front of me. “That was quite the storm.”
“Yes, it was.” My heart ached.
Elliot had been my safe harbour during the storm, and I'd foolishly led him into believing there could be more. In my right mind, I shouldn't have kissed him. However, in my defence, I also regretted nothing. Kissing Elliot had been wonderful and a source of many bittersweet dreams as of late.
Nina tapped on the screen and gave me my total for the drink. I touched my card to it and shuffled off to the side.
Elliot and Molly were in a fluid and flawless dance, each moving and dipping around, skirting the other and yet somehow getting the orders fulfilled.When my coffee was created, Elliot called out my name, and I reached for my cup. I searched his eyes, looking as deep into his soul as I could, and saw the metaphorical door slam shut. Although his fingers still lingered on the cup as I went to reach it, there was nothing on his face to indicate how in that moment I meant anything more to him than merely being a customer.
“I'm sorry,” I whispered.“For everything.”
Molly passed him a disposable cup, nudging his arm, but that didn't stop him from staring at me and only removing his focus for a microsecond to see what was written on the label. “Order for Meredith.”
The lady beside me stepped up to grab her drink and whatever was in the takeout bag.
“Can we talk?”
“You made everything perfectly clear.” He grabbed the next coffee order. “Cinnamon latte for Jeremy.”
With that, I tucked my tail between my legs and walked out of the Coffee Loft, tossing my drink into the nearest trash bin.
* * *
Grabbing a stemless wine glass from the alcove beside the kitchen sink, I poured anOff the Gridwhite wine into my glass halfway and then decided to top it up. I wasn’t going anywhere.
“What are you celebrating?” My sister asked as she entered and headed to the sink to resume washing the grapes sitting in the strainer.
“Nothing.” And I took a big swig.
“Oh? What are you trying to drown then?”
“All my feelings. Every. Single. One.”
Drying her hands, she walked closer and assessed me like one of her students. “Do you need a hug?”
“No,” I said as my voice cracked and myvision blurred.
Without a word, she wrapped me in her arms and ran her hand down the back of my head, pulling me close. She held me, and I let her, breathing in her familiar light perfume smell—the kind mom used to wear. After the longest time—probably a minute as she’d told me previously a minute-long hug released all sorts of serotonin and calmed an upset soul—she released me when I pulled away.
“Now, I know you keep saying you don’t want to talk about things, but ever since that night, you’ve been … well, you’ve not been yourself.”
“I know.” I put a breath of distance between us and took another sip. My tastebuds danced as the sweeter wine tickled.
Cassie removed the wine glass, without much effort either, from my hand. “What’s up?”
I sighed and sat on one of the stools, putting my head on my hands as I rested on the countertop. “I kissed him.”