Page 2 of The Coffee Shop

“Um, good morning,” I manage, then I look over to Luke. His blonde hair is getting a little long and it’s hanging over his light blue eyes in the sexiest way. He gives me a sideways smile and I feel it all the way to my core.

Fuck.

I quickly take the opportunity to remind myselfthat it’snotprofessional to be eyefucking the customers. Even if they do look like…that.

“Wha… What can I get for you today?” I say, wiping my hands on my apron and trying desperately not to notice how their biceps ripple out from the sleeves of their T-shirts with every breath.

Without warning, my brain decides to imagine ripping those shirts off and running my fingers over the hard abdominal muscles beneath.

“We’ll take the usual,” Luke speaks out over the cacophony of voices. His tone isn’t as deep as Sebastian’s, but the way he articulates every word has me melting.

“Um, sure. And… what is your usual?” I say, trying to keep up my perfectly curated, nonchalant professional response.

They don’t need to know how I linger on their every move.

Luke puts an elbow casually on the higher part of the counter and leans in so that only I can hear him over the crowd.

“You know exactly what we want,” he says, his piercing eyes never leaving mine as he speaks.

Not even for a second.

My breath catches in my throat and I blink, unsure if he meant that sentence to sound the way my brain is currently taking it. My eyes flicker back towards Sebastian and he has a slanted grin plastered on his face. He crosses his arms, which only draws more of my attention to the body that I have been so actively avoiding.

I avert my eyes and quickly tap out their orders on the screen.

“And, um, can I get a name for the order?” I whisper,not looking at them, surprised at how breathless I sound.

“Oh, I think you know our names, sweetheart,” Sebastian’s deep voice responds with a chuckle, drawing my attention back to him. Then hewinksat me before they both walk away.

I stare after them.

He fuckingwinkedat me.

They have always been a little on the flirty side, sure, butthis? What the fuck is going on with these two today? I take a deep breath, type in their names above their order, which yes, I absolutely know, then call up the next person in line.

I watch them head towards their usual table then turn my attention to the woman in front of me. She takes several minutes to maneuver the stroller up against the counter, pull her massive purse out from under it and then proceeds to unload everything out onto the counter as she looks for her wallet.

“What can I get started for you?” I ask politely.

“Can’t you see I need a minute? I haven’t even looked at the menu yet and your attitude isn’t going to make me decide any faster,” she spits out.

I think about the fifteen minutes this woman just spent standing in line and how she very easily could’ve decided on her order then, but before I can dwell on that thought, I am distracted by a man snapping his fingers at me at the furthest end of the counter.

“Excuse me? Miss? Yeah, you!” He snaps again, pointing a finger down at his open drink. “I asked for no foam, does this look like no foam to you?”

I walk over and pick up his cup, checking the label.

“Did you order a cappuccino, sir?” I ask, hoping he just grabbed the wrong one off the counter.

“Yes, of course I ordered a cappuccino, but I want it with no foam. And I want it mixed. I don’t know how long you’ve worked here, but you need to pay more attention to what you’re doing from now on,” the man reprimands.

Icouldspend the next ten minutes explaining to this fine gentleman that the point of a cappuccino is that it always has foam and that he should order a latte next time. Or I could tell him to go fuck himself. I do neither, because I don’t give a shit anymore. Not when this exact scenario has already happened multiple times this week.

“I’ll have a new one out right away,” I say sweetly, instead of stabbing him in the eye with the nearest sharp object.

Only a few more hours, I remind myself.

“Hey Leena?” My manager calls from behind me, her voice makes my skin crawl. Mostly because it’s shrill and condescending, but also because she has been here for the past three hours and has chosen to busy herself with something menial instead of helping me out with this line.

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