Page 37 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
“Please,” Lauren scoffs and narrows her eyes at him. “We live in the same town with, like, one main street and five Wi-Fi signals. That and the fact that I have eyes, a fairly good memory, and Instagram. You’re not as hard to recognize as you might think.”
“Instagram?” Nic sounds confused, and I can only nod. What are they talking about?
“Come to think of it,” I say amusedly, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “Whatisyour job? I assumed it was a work from home thing.”
“It has to be something that makes enough money for one of the lakeside mansions,” Nic thinks aloud, narrowing her eyes at Kieran, like she’s a detective who stumbled over a huge new lead. “And since you’re suddenly awfully interested in the ceiling, I’m guessing it’s something you don’t want us to know.”
“You were awfully interested intheirjobs though,” I can’t help but point out. Oh, I’m enjoying this. Especially after the teasing I got about my crush on Nic. “Now I’m curious. Come on. Tell us.”
“Is it porn?” Nic turns in her seat, trying to read his face better. He’s biting the inside of his cheek, and avoids looking at her. “Do you sell your socks online? Spit it out, Kieran.”
“Please don’t spit on my floors.” All four of us startle when Caleb suddenly appears next to our table, the usual grim expression on his face and two mugs in his hands. “Lattes. Here you go, ladies.”
“I wasn’t going to spit on your floor,” Kieran mumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest with a pout. Caleb continues staring at him without any expression. “They want to know what my job is.”
“Well, I don’t care. As long as you pay and tip, spare me from more gossip,” Caleb says gruffly, letting out a sigh that from the sound of it must have been building since the moment he was born. Then he glances at Kieran and me expectantly. “Are you getting the usu—wait, what the hell is that?”
His eyes widen and the notepad nearly slips from his hands. A horror-stricken expression washes over his face as he stares at something behind me, as if it has personally offended his coffee-making skills.
“What?” Lauren asks with wide eyes, only the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth revealing that she knew she’d be getting a reaction out of him. “Oh, this thing?” She lifts the full liter bottle of something orange. Where did she even hide that? “This, you heathen, is pumpkin spice syrup. Says so right here.” She points at the label with a smile as if she doesn’t understand the problem.
“I can read, thank you very much.” He closes his eyes and forces himself to take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What is it doing in my café?”
“I brought it for my coffee,” she says sweetly and wiggles the bottle for emphasis. Oh, Lauren must have a dead wish.
Nic is hiding her giggles behind a hand while Kieran’s and my gazes bounce back and forth between them faster than the ball at Wimbledon.
“Nope. Away with it. I won’t tolerate this disgusting stuff in here.”
“Don’t discriminate.” She opens the bottle and pours a healthy amount into her coffee, all while keeping eye contact with him. “Your coffee is just too strong. I need some pumpkin spice sweetness to counteract. Relax, it’s not as if opening the bottle is suddenly going to make all of your coffees taste like pumpkin spice. Although you should totally consider that.”
“Oh God, that hurts to see.” Caleb sounds pained, and I’m fighting hard to not burst into laughter. I can see how much he’s suffering, and I have to say, it’s refreshing to see a break from his usual stoic poker face.
“Also, we have the mission to”—she shoots Nic a glance and both continue in unison—“romanticize the fuck out of fall.” Lauren continues on her own. “And drinking pumpkin spice lattes is on the top of that romanticizing list.”
Caleb stares at her with his mouth agape, before he closes his eyes resignedly.
“Anyways, Kieran’s job,” Nic gently redirects the conversation. Caleb wanders off, mumbling something about “damned city girls and their weakness against bitterness,” and Lauren wordlessly hands the bottle to Nic, who also pours a healthy amount into her coffee.
“Can we pretend that conversation never happened?” Kieran all but begs, but my interest is piqued. “Please?”
“Nope, Pandora’s box is open now. How bad can it be?” I wonder and tilt my head. “Are you selling pictures of your feet? No judgment if you do. If it gets you a house as expensive as the lakeside mansion, I might just pick it up as a side hustle.”
“You’re so close,” Lauren giggles and Kieran grinds his teeth, before the tension falls from his body at once, and he shakes his head in resignation.
“Oh, this is going to be good. I know it.” Nic takes a sip of her coffee and exhales a happy sigh.
“I’m a content creator,” Kieran mumbles, shrinking into himself and clearly wishing the earth would open up and swallow him.
“That doesn’t sound too bad. Or is ‘content’ a code word for porn?”
“Almost. He’s a thirst trap,” Lauren clarifies with an eyebrow wiggle, and Kieran hides his beet-red face behind his hands. “Meaning, he dances to music half-naked. And I’ve got to hand it to you—it’s kind of hot and only a little cringe.”
Nic bursts into laughter, and it’s the sweetest sound I’ve heard all day. Which is not a hard thing to achieve when 90 percent of what I hear all day is my husky yapping.
“I loved the one where you wore that elephant slip and did the—”
“God, Lauren, please stop.” I can’t help but stare at Nic, feeling only a little creepy. But she’s gorgeous when her eyes light up with amusement and those adorable dimples in her cheeks appear. It makes me want to learn a bunch of stupid jokes by heart, just to make her laugh.
