like one tired professor who is utterly grateful for the caffeine.” He took the drink from Lupé and savored the scent. The coffee smelled of autumn and came with a nice leaf design on the frothed milk.
Cinnamon, nutmeg, a hint of cloves. Something else. Chocolate?
He took a sip and closed his eyes, letting the taste melt over his tongue and flow down his throat.
Yes, all the above, plus a sharp sting of heat. He flicked his eyes open and met Lupe’s amused smile. “Mexican chocolate?”
Lupé shook their head. “Belgian chocolate, but that’s chili you taste.” Lupé rested their butt against the armrest of another chair. “What do you think?”
Max took another sip before answering. “It’s divine. Like a warm fall day that has the promise of a crisp evening.”
That got a laugh from Lupé. “You should’ve been a poet, Professor. You have a way with words.”
Max scoffed. He liked words, but he loved languages. “Is there a name for this?”
“Campfire Mocha, and you just gave us a great description for it!” Lupé stood. “Enjoy, Professor. Holler if you want another.” With a wink and a smile, Lupé headed back to the counter.
“Gracias,” Max called out, and received an air kiss in response.
Best coffee shop in town.
Max indulged in another sip, then got back to reading his students’ essays. He was about halfway through the stack and three quarters through his second Campfire Mocha when the shop door’s bell rang. Max glanced up to see Tom Cedric eyeing him, his mouth pulled down in annoyance before he looked away.
Max got that from quite a few people when he occupied this seat in the coziest corner of the shop. Right by the fire, patrons could pull up two chairs close and have a private, intimate conversation. Prime real estate. But there were other seats around, including a couch, so he never felt bad about planting his ass and staying for several hours, especially since he always bought a pastry or two, and enough coffee to vibrate himself home.
Maybe Max was on Tom’s asshole list. The man tended to avoid Max whenever they were in the same space, despite whispers he had a crush on Max. He surreptitiously watched as Tom headed to the counter, then to a table near the bulletin board, a cup of water in hand. He took a seat facing the front of the shop.
Interesting. Waiting for someone? Not that it was any of Max’s business.
Max forced himself back to grading. After a few minutes, the bell on the door rang again, and a man in a hoodie entered, crossed the shop, and took a seat across from Tom. They conversed for several minutes before Tom shook his head once at what seemed to be a pointed suggestion. The man rose, planted his hands on the table and spoke again, words too low for Max to catch, but the tone was biting and sharp.
Max glanced over to the counter, seeking out Lupé, who was also watching the exchange, arms crossed. Good. Lupé was closer, if there was trouble.
Just then, Tom laughed, and that, too, was caustic. Then he pointed. To the door, Max realized.
The man huffed, spun around and stomped away. As he passed, Max heard him say, “Fucking bitch.” Then he was gone.
He could stay gone, as far as Max was concerned. He turned his attention back to Tom, who was staring up at the ceiling, annoyance plastered on his lovely face. When Tom’s gaze dropped, Max buried himself in his grading.
He was not getting involved and he certainly didn’t want to let Tom know he’d been watching. Besides, he needed to get this stack of papers done.
Max tried very hard not to watch as similar situations played themselves out three more times that evening. Swaggering men approached Tom. Calm conversation, then the men did or said something rude, and Tom pointed to the door.
At least the assholes had the decency not to make too much of a scene.
After the latest one, Tom folded his arms on the table and laid his head down. The groan that escaped was loud enough for Max to hear.
Poor guy. Max had been correct, though—that ad wasn’t working for Tom. How many other meetings had Tom had before today?
Too many, from the looks of it.
Something akin to need itched in Max, poking his legs and turning his mind. Fuck. He never could say no to a sub in need. And this was Tom.
Max set aside his grading, stood, and headed to the