Page 26 of Tech Prince Troubles
Disappearing the day after he’d told me about his family hadn’t been my best plan, but with my family pings doubling, I couldn’t postpone my visit to Langhide. Ihadto contact them from a safe place to avoid them figuring out I’d been misleading them.
A bigger mistake had been leaving immediately after my shift. I could have made time to go in for an espresso before leaving. It would have made the trip less draining, and the day more enjoyable. But seeing Sam with so many questions tripping up my system would’ve made it much harder to face my mins.
The next day… those questions lingered, and I couldn’t make myself go in. Then yesterday, the energy in the room I’d been working in had been too glitchy to top up. Eager to finish, to rest, I’d ended up working too long. Tired and empty as I felt, I hadn’t wanted to face a crowd, so I’d gone straight to my room. But as I’d sat there, on the floor, clasping the socket, I’d felt listless with guilt. I couldn’t even focus on drawing birds once I’d replenished my energy.
I missed Sam’s espresso, but more than that, I missed him asking how my shift had been, missed his smile, and the way he interacted with guests, with the baristas. Did Frank feel like this about Kaia? Was that why he talked about her like she was the source of his energy? The thought had stuck in my brain as I’d stared at the trees; I missed Sam more than I did his coffee.
So, here I was, with a million questions and nerves raging through my system. There were five humans in front of me as I entered the café, and for a second, I considered turning around and going back to my room instead.
It was his voice—a beacon among murmuring humans—and the sound of the machines in the background that made me stay. Sam made me stay.
At least my family’s pings had slowed to a trickle after checking in with my mins during my visit to Langhide. Especially after I promised to go to the United Regions Environmental Summit in Germany late August. Since I couldn’t claim complications with any of our projects—they knew there were none—I’d better solve these glitches by then.
My system stuttered at the thought of leaving. Of not coming back. It scared me more than the possibility of meeting more of Sam’s family. Five children. Quinn had been lovely and smart… and quiet. I had no illusions they would all be like that.
When it was finally my turn, I pushed down my nerves and smiled at Sam.
He stood behind the counter with his sleeves rolled up, but the smile he gave me lacked his usual brightness. “Good morning, Adri. Your usual?”
His words felt… cold, automatic, and I had to fight the instinct to leave. Of course, he thought I’d avoided him. And I couldn’t find the words to tell him it hadn’t been deliberate. “Yes. Thank you.”
Sam typed my order in and pushed the card reader toward me. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Then shook his head and stared past me. Time seemed to freeze as I paid for my coffee with a trembling hand. I expected him to turn away when I was done, but he just stood there, gazing at nothing. So, I waited, ignoring my frizzled system, trying to find the words to apologize, to explain, and willing him to look at me.
Too bad humans couldn’t send.
A barista whispered something to Sam. He nodded and straightened himself. “Gandalf is in the middle of a cleaning cycle, so why don’t you find a seat, and I’ll bring your espresso when it’s done?” His lackluster smile wavered when Gandalf gurgled happily behind him—the scent of espresso filling the air—but he didn’t move and refused to meet my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t get a word out. My apology stuck in my throat, no matter how I swallowed. So, I gave him a polite nod as I turned and walked to my corner booth, when my system screamed at me to just go. Sam had obviously lied about the cleaning cycle, making it clear I’d angered him, insulted him. Instead, I sat with a sigh and stared out of the window.
I was still staring out of the window—my system working overtime trying to solve the puzzle of Sam—when he slid onto the bench across from me and put two espressos on the table. At least, he hadn’t sent someone else. But I didn’t understand why he was joining me. I thought he was angry at me. Though, the way he gazed at me now, he seemed more concerned than angry, which only confused me more.
My hand shook as I pulled the cup closer and let out a slow breath, but it was hard to focus on the scent of my espresso withSam following my every move. Was he waiting for me to say something? I swallowed. Perhaps now my voice would work.
“I’m sorry,” we both said simultaneously.
I winced at the whiny tone in my voice and clamped my mouth shut.
“I missed you,” Sam continued, his expression soft. “Look. I’m sorry what I said was too much for you. And I’m sorry if that was the reason you didn’t come in and get your espresso these past few mornings. I really missed you.”
“You’re not angry?” I might as well ask. How else was I supposed to know?
“Angry? At you? No.” He shook his head. “Hurt. Yes. And sad. But not angry.”
“Why were you sad?”
“That you stayed away because of what I told you.”
I gazed at my cup. “No. I needed time to process, but I didn’t mean to stay away so long. I had an appointment. And work… There were too many glitches. One after another.”
Sam winced. “That bad, huh?”
“I was foolish and worked too long. It was…” I swallowed.I like you. It was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t say it.
He picked up his cup and inhaled the scent with a contented smile. “I know this is not the place, and I don’t have much time. Can we meet after my shift on Sunday? Tomorrow is my day off.”
He’d be spending the day with his family. I nodded.
“Good,” his smile widened. “Now let’s enjoy our espressos, and then I’ll have to get back to work.”
