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‘I believe in you,’ I lie.
He shoots me a mistrustful glance that makes my mouth twitch upwards and then takes his position at the steam wand, clutching the metal jug like a baby who’s only recently discovered the use of their hands. ‘I feel like I’m holding this wrong.’
‘You are, you need to turn it a bit.’ He turns it the wrong way. ‘No, the other— let me help you.’ I step between him and the counter to lean across his torso and carefully prise his fingers from the jug to reposition them. If my hands feel cold on his, he doesn’t flinch. In fact, he’s perfectly still, sending flames licking up my entire left side at every spot his body touches mine, solid and scorching. My voice catches in my throat as I say, ‘Okay, now stay like that.’
When I turn the dial to release some steam, his hands immediately revert to their original position, so I instinctively place mine over his and hold everything where it should be. I feel his breath at my ear and I turn my head instinctively, my nose barely missing scraping against the dense stubble at his jaw. And yet, it’s only when I smell that familiar body-warmed cologne and leftover chlorine on his skin that I really register just how close he is. Closeenough to count the trace of freckles scattered across his nose and cheekbones like tiny fairy footprints. Close enough to see his pupils have dilated, the easy warmth of his eyes replaced by wildfire. Close enough to catch the way those eyes drop to my mouth once. Then twice.
‘Shit,’ he rasps, as hot milk churns up and over the lip of the jug and across the counter. In a whirl he rushes to the sink to run water over his hands while I leap back and look for some paper towels, ready to clean up the mess I was hoping to avoid.
‘Woah, what happened here?’ Dylan asks, drying her hands on her apron.
Brilliant question. I’m wondering the same.
As the door bangs shut behind Dylan ten minutes later, I hurriedly finish the rest of my tasks, desperate to be out of the shop and away from Finn and his confusingly magnetic presence. ‘You can go too. I need to get changed in the back for my date.’
‘Sure. I’ll put these mugs away and then I’ll leave.’
I give him a quick smile to say thanks but avoid his eyes, before I head behind the counter to the back room. My mind reels as I tear off my layers in our employee bathroom, replacing my t-shirt for a strappy corset-style top. I can’t tell if the lace-edged sweetheart neckline makes me look too booby, or if I simply just exist, with boobs. Still, I reach into my top and rearrange them, because I know exactly what I want from my audience tonight.
I apply a red lip stain and smack my lips together a few times until I’m satisfied with the colour. Sure, Finn looked at my mouth, and I might’ve looked at his, but it’s hardnotto look when you’re that close. I haven’t had any action in a while, so the slightest contact witha man is sending my mind into a frenzy. Especially one with arms like that. And eyes like that. And a smile and— whatever. It makes perfect sense that I reacted the way I did.
By the time I take down my hair, I’m feeling much calmer. It’s time to get horizontally distracted tonight with a giant man with a beard and a proclivity for putting three “x”s at the end of every text he sends. That’s what I need.
I take my phone from its perch on the sink and read my texts. There’s a message from Aiden.
Can’t wait for tonight, just leaving now xxx
I fire back a text that’s probably more flirtatious than I’d usually go for, but I’m a woman on a mission. Then I spot three messages from Max.
As IF you didn’t remember what today is, I’m offended
How dare you have a life
(This is a joke, I’m glad you’re busy)
Shit, shit, shit. My heart twists as my fingers fly over my screen to reply. This is the first year I’ve forgotten.
I slip my phone into my back pocket and take one last look in the mirror. The person staring backat me doesn’t try for permanence. She gets her fill, and then she leaves. That’s the way it works best. The way it’s worked for years.
So why does it feel like I’m suddenly wearing clothes that aren’t mine?
When I step back into the shop I expect to find it empty. Instead, Finn’s leaning in that perpetually casual way of his on the other side of the counter, wearing the same coy smile from the other day while he texts.
As he glances up from his screen, something moves across his face. My heart betrays me with a stutter when his eyes train on mine. I push my shoulders back and stand tall, reminding myself that we are friends, and that I have a goal for tonight that he is categorically not involved in. I stride over to the till to make sure it’s turned off.
He seems like he’s weighing up what to say, his mouth opening and closing just slightly. ‘Your date’s a lucky man.’
‘I’ll let you know tomorrow,’ I reply with a shrug, and he expels a soft laugh.
After a few moments of silence, he says quietly, ‘I didn’t mean it like that, though.’
I can’t look at him. My efforts to forget the hunger in his eyes or the heat of him pressed against my side are futile when his words seem to have a similar effect on my weak-willed body. God, I need to get away from him. I need to release some of this tension with someone who won’t leave a mess in my life.
‘I hope he’s not lying about his height,’ I say, attempting some levity.
He matches my tone. ‘It’d be terrible if he were only six-three.’
‘Right? I’m so glad you understand me.’ His gaze burns into my back as I walk around the shop unnecessarily, doing the final checks that I know I’ve already completed. I move back in his direction and wonder aloud, ‘What do you think might disappoint him about me?’
