Page 4 of Love Me Like It's Real
FELIX
The aroma of coffee and pure, unfiltered happiness hits my nostrils like a tsunami and cleanses me down to my core.
“Ah, that feels good,” I tell Caspian as soon as I close the door of Special Blend and take my usual seat opposite the register.
Caspian raises his eyebrow, smirking.
“What does?”
“This. All of this!” I wave my hands around the café and take another deep breath. “Serenity, peace, caffeine.”
“But you haven’t had any caffeine yet,” he points out.
“And that’s a crime against humanity. No. Not humanity. Me.”
“Well, in that case, let me rectify that for you.” Caspian does a little curtsy and starts preparing one of his delicious coffees.
Caspian has been a lifesaver in the past couple of weeks since he opened, or shall I say reopened Special Blend. Not only does he make decent and delicious coffee, he’s also become a friend and confidante. It’s probably because we’re both newbies in Maplewood, me only having a couple of months under my belt and he a whopping couple of weeks. And in a town where everyone knows everyone it’s nice to have a friend who’s going through the same thing and trying to adjust to life in a small town.
Not that Maplewood needs adjusting. It’s been a wonderful experience being here so far and everyone is so friendly and accepting, which was what we were missing from our lives before. And the girls love it so much already. It’s as if they’ve been here their whole lives. They’re happy, and carefree and most importantly peaceful. Elsa hasn’t had a nightmare since we moved in and Arya hasn’t mentioned her dad for just as long.
Motherfucker did a number on them. On all of us, really. But Maplewood has been the fresh start we needed.
Caspian approaches the table with a tray. Along with the coffee there’s a chocolate and mango marble cake with a maple drizzle, and before he even sits across from me I’m trying to figure out what excuse to give him for not eating it.
I love Caspian and he makes kickass coffee but his baking skills are interesting to say the least. And sometimes I just want a cake, not aninterestingcake.
I pull the coffee toward me straight away and take a good gulp before I let go.
“Tough morning?”
I sigh. “You can say that again. It was all going so well. We were on time and everything, and then of course it all went to shit. Arya lost her favorite scrunchie?—”
“Scrunchie?” Caspian frowns.
“Yes. Scrunchie. And what on earth is she going to do without her lucky scrunchie? How is she going to survive without it?”
“Of course. If I ever got stranded on a deserted island I’d die without my lucky scrunchie.”
“Exactly. So of course I had to turn the house upside down in order to find it. We didn’t. So then I had to turn to negotiations.”
“As one does.” Caspian chuckles.
“I bribed her with chocolate. Nothing. I bribed her with ice cream. Nothing. I bribed her with a late bedtime. Nothing.”
“You’re fighting a losing battle my friend.”
“And don’t I know it. I finally got Elsa to convince Arya to a favor in exchange for her cooperation.”
“A favor?” Caspian narrows his eyes.
“Yeah. She can turn around anytime, completely out of the blue, and ask me for a favor. So you know she’s going to hold on to that for a long time until I forget all about it and then BANG! She turns fifteen and asks me for a tattoo. And of course I’ll have to agree because I made a promise.”
Caspian nods. “Make sure she gets something cute. And definitely not a tramp stamp. Those can haunt you for a lifetime.”
“Yeah, I might as well stop by a tattoo parlor in Burlington and seal the deal with a deposit while I’m ahead.”
“I would. Those childhood promises-turned-teenage-nightmare slots book out fast.” Caspian purses his lips and points.
