The Do-Over (The Rooftop Crew #5) - Piper Rayne Page 0,43
a plate and she’s talking to Patrice. From the evil stare coming from Patrice, I’m guessing I’m not welcome to join that conversation.
For the rest of the night, Kamea is polite enough, but once we’re in an Uber, the silent treatment commences.
At our apartment door, I say, “Thanks for going with me.”
“Sure thing.” She walks in and is about to go into her room, but she turns back around, lifting her long hair off her neck. “Could you do one last thing and unzip me?”
“Yeah, sure.”
My fingers go to her zipper and I lower it. It goes down to her mid ass, which means I’m looking at her in a thong. A black thong that reveals her amazing ass. Fucking hell. Why can’t I be a douchebag? If there was ever a time for me to be one, now is it.
She steps away before my fingers even leave the zipper. “Thanks. Good night, Knox.”
She walks into her bedroom and shuts the door.
You could be in there naked with her, dumbass.
“Night,” I whisper.
Chapter Nineteen
Kamea
Lucky for me, I’m the first one awake on Saturday morning. Instead of working on my T-shirts—which is what I should do—I decide to play a little game with Knox.
I get in my yoga pants and sweatshirt, put on a cap, and take the elevator down to street level. I cross the street and walk right into Sweet Infusion. It’s hectic and Rian is breezing from the front to the back. Customers are waiting by the pick-up station.
“Do you need help?” I ask her since there’s no one else here.
“Oh my God, yes! Pour some coffee, or if you want to go in the back and grab the muffins I just made, that would be great.”
“I’m good with the coffee pouring,” I say and grab a pot. Then I notice a list of tickets for specialty drinks. I pick up a ticket and hold it up for her. “What about these?”
“Yeah, I’ll be back to make those. Dylan’s in the shower and then he’s coming over.”
“I’ll make them.”
“You know how?” she asks.
“Country club folks love their fancy coffee drinks.”
She laughs. “I owe you whatever you want.” She disappears into the kitchen.
Well, I hope she remembers that promise when I tell her my plan.
I prepare the coffees and get orders out to a few people who thank me. Rian comes out with a tray of muffins right when Dylan walks in, freshly showered.
“What do you need, babe?” he asks Rian.
“I had another savior.” She smiles at me before kissing Dylan quickly.
Dylan nods at me. “Hey, Kamea.”
“Hi, Dylan.” I lift my arm in a wave. Lately, I’ve been getting some bad vibes from Dylan and I’m not entirely sure why. I’ve barely ever talked to the guy.
“Thanks, Kamea. Dylan can take over.”
A customer comes over to the pick-up ledge and holds up his latte. “This is the best one I’ve ever had.” He smiles at me.
I nod. “Thank you.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow.” He leaves.
Rian gapes at me. “Um… that man complains about everything every time he comes in. What did you do?”
I shrug. “I just made him a latte.”
“Show me,” she says and leaves Dylan.
“I’ll manage the register. Is there anything in the back you need me to do?” Dylan puts on an apron that says, “I belong to the baker.”
“Nope. Everything we have is out now.”
I show Rian how I make my lattes, though I don’t really think it’s that different from anyone else. Twenty minutes later, another rush comes in. I’ll give it to Dylan—he manages the front end without hardly needing Rian, allowing us to work on all the drinks.
After it slows down, Dylan grabs a croissant and sits down with a coffee and his phone.
“Did all your help call in?” I ask Rian.
She nods. “Yeah, that’s high schoolers for you, right? During the week, I have a few moms who come in the morning and get all the big orders together with me. I’m really going to have to rethink who I’m hiring.”
“Well, you can keep me on standby. I don’t have any hours at the country club, what with them closing for renovations until the spring. Besides that, I only have my T-shirts.”
“Oh!” She touches my arm. “I was talking to Jax and he said you did some specialty T-shirts for him?”
I nod because he swore me to secrecy, but once he actually has them, I plan on disappearing. Frankie might just kick my ass.