the briefest of moments, imagined we weren’t at a hospital, and she wasn’t injured, and instead of groaning in pain, she was moaning for another reason…
“Are you okay?” Olivia’s brow lowers, and her eyes flash with concern. “Did I…?” She takes a short step back but keeps her gaze on me, seeking answers that are so twisted up in my head right now, I don’t know what to do or say.
“Sorry,” I tell her. “I’m just tired.” Mentally and physically.
“Olivia,” Marcus calls, placing a coffee and small brown paper bag on the counter. He looks at me and jerks his chin, indicating for me to follow as he adds a second coffee and bag to the pile.
“You have coffee connections?” she asks in awe.
“I work next door and fix his bike when he needs it. Bartering is a system I learned from my dad.”
“You said your dad works on cars?”
I nod. “Owns an auto body shop. He’s exchanged work with plumbers and electricians and all sorts of people. It’s how I got my first bike and why my mom finally got the back porch she wanted for fifteen years. He’s even got this one buddy who owns a restaurant that you can’t get into without like a six-month reservation, and Dad calls him and gets seated in an hour.”
She places a finger to her chin with thought. “Maybe I can trade your friend free coffee for a cat.”
I grin. “He does like cats.” I glance at the clock on the wall that reminds me I have less than five minutes to get to work. “You want to come check out the bike store I work at?”
She looks back at the counter of the coffee shop and then me like she’s trying to understand if my invitation is meant for her or someone else. “Um…”
“Come on. Consider it part of your Seattle tour. Only locals go into bike shops.”
Liv grins. “Says the guy from New Jersey.”
“Come on.”
We walk next door, the air still chilly and brisk as reminders of recent rain remain in puddles on the sidewalk. “What did you get? It smells good,” she says. “Also, I’m super jealous you not only get free coffee, but that someone knows your order, and you don’t have to wait in line. That’s like the trifecta.”
“For the record, I only get these here because I don’t have to say my order aloud.”
“You’re one of those who has a twenty-five-word order, aren’t you? No foam, light this, heavy that, no whip elitists who make me feel dumb when I point to the picture of what I want.”
I chuckle, feeling much lighter now that I did fifteen minutes ago. “No. I just fear my man card might be revoked for ordering a vanilla caramel latte anywhere. Here, try it.”
She takes it, surprise has her forehead creasing, but then she takes a drink. “Oh, that’s good. And I think your man card stays intact regardless, but as long as you order this without a man bun, I’m positive you’ll be fine.” She shrugs. “Even with the man bun, you’d be fine.”
“Maybe I’ll just need to beat on my chest or something first.” I pound my pec and then flex, showing off because, as my mom puts it, I mastered flirting before I took my first step. It’s innate and a knee jerk reaction that should probably make me feel guilty—Olivia with her no-label Matt and me with my still-need-to-resolve-shit Jade, but it doesn’t.
Liv smiles shyly, her eyes dropping to my chest before averting to the store.
“Morning,” Felix calls from the register. He’s the owner of The Peddalers, and I’m convinced he spends most of his time here. Felix is pushing seventy and wears cardigans and dress slacks every day, regardless of the weather. His gray hair is always neatly trimmed and slicked to the side, and he’s never owned a car in his life.
I lift my bag in greeting. “Morning, Felix.” I lead Olivia to the old wooden desk that holds the large antique cash register and paper notepad that Felix uses to track jobs and write receipts. “Felix, this is Liv. She’s the one I told you is trying to solve my curse. Liv, this is Felix, and don’t let his Mr. Rogers charm mislead you. He’s a poker shark and a ball-buster when it comes to good music.” I open the bag and hand Felix the cranberry scone Marcus intended for him.