Page 46 of Unsteady

“Morning,” I offer, smoothing a hand over my black half apron tied around my black jeans.

I feel that little pinch of anxiety growing as Rhys peruses me just as I did to him, his eyes clocking my tight gray short sleeve that’s most likely littered with coffee stains and, yep, crumbs of sourdough. I tuck my hair behind my ears again, wiping the back of my hand over my mouth and finding a stain of yellow from the corner of my lips on my hand.

Jesus.

“Not the ‘get coffee together’ kind of girl, huh?” Rhys teases, no hint of his hesitation or unease from last night present in his expression now.

“Just the ‘serve it with a smile’ kind,” I quip.

He smiles further, more genuine as it pulls at his mouth, the indent of one dimple showing. “For some reason, I doubt the ‘smile’ part. I don’t remember that from the last time you served me coffee.”

My mouth splits wide into an over exaggerated all teeth grin as I offer to take their order.

Bantering with him brings my anxiety down, calming me in an almost unsettling way, where I crave the next little interaction between us. Maybe it’s the quickness of it, the permanent deep well of sadness in his eyes or the fact that he’s distractingly gorgeous like some old Grecian marble statue ofmale beauty.

“Have a seat and I’ll bring it out to you,” I say, spinning the iPad towards them with the total. Rhys tries to grab for his wallet, but the large, surly-looking man beside him is quicker, tapping his heavy metal card against the system quickly before leaving the counter without another word.

Rhys leans in over the counter and I mimic his movement, watching a light flush paint his cheeks.

“I, uh… I had my first practice back this morning.”

“Yeah?” I have the urge to grab his hand and hold it. “And? All good?”

The idea of him panicked and alone makes my stomach hurt. I can’t explain it, but there is an intense protectiveness I feel over his pain.

“All good. I listened to that song. The one from the locker room with the weird band name?”

My throat feels clogged. “Rainbow Kitten Surprise.”

“Yeah.” He smiles; dimples.

I want to kiss him. Instead, I freeze, because if I move, I will kiss him; grab his usually shaking hands. Tuck my fists against his neck until the heat of his skin releases them from their tight hold. Splay him across the counter and mold my entire body to his. See if the golden boy captain can release his tight control for me.

“Anyways, I’ll wait over there. Thanks Sadie, for everything.” Rhys lingers for a moment, locking me in his gaze again before ducking away and following his friend to a clean table close by.

I study them while making their orders; an iced black coffee with three tablespoons of almond milk for the grumpy one—Bennett Reiner, going by the name on the ticket order—and a cold brew special, which means maple syrup, toffee nut and a splash of condensed milk, for Rhys—which nearly made me swallow my tongue as I listened to him order my go-to drink.

They’re both speaking quietly, both on their phones as much as they are off them, and despite the constant discussion flowing easily between them, they both have a tightness in their shoulders, while Rhys bounces his leg beneath the table.

I’ve never seen Bennett Reiner before, but I’ll never miss him after this—his height alone is like a calling card. He’s got to be pushing 6’6”, which is daunting to my couple inches over five feet. Rhys is tall, but Bennett is like a mountain, with the broad shoulders and tree-trunk thighs to match. He doesn’t look like a college student, really—not only from his size, but his hyper masculine features that make him look a bit like he might be leading stuffy board meetings and rock climbing mountain faces in his spare time.

His light brown hair in a mop of messy waves and curls, a well-maintained scruff of a beard, thin enough to see the masculine squareness of his jaw. His eyes are slanted beneath thick brows, like a permanent furrow even with a smile on his face as he speaks quietly with Rhys.

“Here,” I try to announce myself as I step up to their table, setting their drinks down carefully.

Bennett swipes his immediately, sliding a coaster under the plastic and a foam holder over the sweating cup. Rhys takes his from my hands directly, smiling up at me again. It’s gentler this time, less fake than I’ve seen from him, with that lightly bleeding sadness like invisible tears on his cheeks.

“Thanks.” He takes a quick sip. “By the way, this is Bennett. Ben, this is Sadie.”

“The figure skater.” Ben nods to me, not quite meeting my eyes.

“And coffee-maker, apparently,” Rhys supplies.

“A good coffee-maker, you mean.” I smirk. “The best cup of coffee you’ll ever have.”

“Should I stand and announce it for everyone? Best coffee in Waterfell?”

The door chimes and I barely have a moment to straighten from where I’ve leaned forward, a hand on the back of Rhys’ wooden chair, before a little body rocks into my legs with a delighted giggle-scream.

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