Page 7 of Sidelined Love

“Not yet. Wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't get here until after we open.”

That wasn't uncommon. While Marc was supposed to help open when he had the morning shift, he often came in late because he couldn’t be bothered to do his job properly. It is one of the many issues I have with him. Most of them I have to suck up because I need to keep this job until I graduate.

“Let's hope the espresso machine doesn't feel like being a complete dick today.”

Ben chuckles, and as if on cue, the grinder whirrs to life. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans fills the air.

I join Ben behind the counter, my hands instinctively reaching for a small cup that I then place under the spout before I adjust the settings on the espresso machine. With a few taps, I change the settings slightly and watch as rich, honey-colored espresso flows into the ceramic mug.

I drink the liquid as if it’s a shot and it feels like one as well. The drink forces me to shake my head once and then twice. Thecobwebs in my brain, left over from sleeping and having to wake up this early in the morning, are now long gone.

As I continue checking off the tasks that I need to get done, Ben arranges pastries into the glass case and my stomach growls in response to seeing the golden croissants he sets out. I mentally kick myself for not remembering to grab a protein bar before I left my apartment.

A glance at the clock confirms we're only seconds from opening. The chime from the bells above the door announces the arrival of our first customers, and I take a second to suck in a deep breath. This is just another regular shift, and I can make it through it.

While I’m cashing a customer out, another man comes up to me with a cup in his hand. I fixed his drink moments ago, so I’m confused as to why he’s standing here. Once I’m done, I turn to address him.

“Hi, what can I help you with?”

He doesn't miss a beat, thrusting his cup forward. “This isn't what I ordered.”

I take the cup, resisting the urge to throw it at him because I know the drink is correct. Instead, I say, “I'm sorry for the mix-up. Let me make you a new one.”

As I set about correcting his order, I think about how I didn’t act on my intrusive thoughts and dump the drink on his head. That's got to be growth, right?

With the corrected drink in hand, I return to the angry man in question. “Here you go, exactly as you ordered.”

He takes a sip, nods, and walks away without another word. I’m not irritated by him showing no manners because I’m happy he’s gone.

My shift proceeds as normal after that even with Marc making his entrance. He only manages to grunt as he walks past Ben and me, and I consider it a win. Some of the orders I havememorized because several of the regulars come in at their usual time, making things slightly easier than the morning rush.

As I hand out drinks and do my best to keep something resembling a smile on my face, I notice a lull in the crowd. As I wipe down the counter during a small reprieve from customers, my gaze falls on the door as the chime sounds once more.

I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t recognize the person who just walked into Brewed Beginnings. Levi Jamison. All-star athlete and hockey captain of the Crestwood Red Wolves. I wish I could pretend that I don’t know him, but it would be a lie given Jade’s friendship with Wilder. Not to mention his face is plastered on one of the walls leading to the gym where I occasionally work out. Although Levi and I haven't ever talked, both his and the hockey team’s reputation precedes him. Their antics are well-known throughout the school.

Of course he's sporting bed hair that looks messy but perfect at the same time. I'm willing to bet he just rolled out of some girl's bed and decided today is the day that he would stroll into this café. He's dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, but still manages to look put together. I look down and shake my head once. I open my eyes and keep wiping the same spot although I'm pretty sure it was cleaned twenty seconds ago.

When I’ve cleaned the same spot for the fifth time, I glance up again and notice several patrons who were enjoying their drinks and snacks in the café are now watching Levi as he makes his way toward me. He doesn't notice or care, and I can't help but think it's because he's used to the attention.

When he's several feet from the counter, I put the cleaning supplies away. When I stand up straight, our eyes lock, and I'm slightly taken back by how blue his are. He gives me an award-winning smile and I raise an eyebrow in response.

“Hey.” My annoyance is apparent to me, but I’m not sure if he senses it. Not that it matters. “What can I get you?” Deepdown, he’s just another customer I have to deal with before I can move on with my day.

He continues to stare at me for a moment and I can’t help but wonder why. Then he finally responds, “Give me the strongest thing you've got, thanks.” His voice is rough, matching the just-woke-up look he's sporting.

“Coming right up,” I say, turning to the espresso machine.

“How was your night?”

The question throws me off guard. I pause before I look over my shoulder. Shock that he's trying to make conversation with me clouds my brain for a second. Then I say the thing that I was holding back. However, I should have kept to myself. “Obviously, not as rough as yours.”

It's the last thing I should have said given that Marc is somewhere around here, looking for a reason to fire me. I don't need a customer to report me for being an asshole. Panic sets in as I desperately try to think of a way to salvage the situation.

But instead of getting angry or offended, the man in front of me simply smirks. “What gives you that impression?”

He's… enjoying this?

I gesture toward his appearance. “You look like you rolled out of bed and threw on whatever clothes you could grab to get here.”

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