Page 31 of Cream & Sugar
I let out a sharp sigh. Come on, Shaun! This is the twenty-first century, and if a straight man can’t look at another guy and think he’s easy on the eyes, then we’ve truly failed as a species. No point in dwelling on it. As for why my heart went off like a jackhammer when he touched my hand? And why, even now, the butterflies in my belly stir just thinking about it? I don’t know.
But I don’t fancy him. I can’t.
In my head, Freddie’s face is replaced by a vivid snapshot of his ripped abs. I remember them so clearly—the way the columns of muscle went rigid as he flexed them, the light dusting of golden hair that trailed south from his belly button…
A familiar tingle starts in my belly and spreads to my crotch.
Gah!
I slam the laptop shut and leap to my feet.
Nope. Just nope. We’re not going down that road. I’ve got way too much on my plate already! Lara left my heart in bits. Work has been a decent distraction, but that was only going to last so long. Plus I haven’t had any “me time” in weeks. No wonder my hormones are going a little haywire. Anna’s right, I need to relax. If only I knew how.
I could go back to bed for a release, but in my current state, I’m worried about what, or who, my rogue thoughts will manifest. I’ll resist, even if a big wank is probably just what I need.
Instead, I make myself another coffee and stick on the first movie I stumble across: Top Gun. If nothing else, maybe Maverick and Iceman’s impressive flying skills will help push Freddie Young out of my head.
11
Freddie
Thisisfuckingpandemonium.
Since I arrived for shift number two, I haven’t stopped. Every table is full and there’s a constant queue of customers that stays long and angry no matter how much Anna and I try to whittle it down.
Behind the counter, I’m next to useless. Anna moves faster than Sonic, flitting between the till and churning out perfect coffees in a never-ending rhythm. Once it became clear I was just getting in her way, she banished me to the café floor to seat customers, clear tables and run orders, which I’ve been doing non-stop for the past four hours. My feet hurt and I need a piss.
“Freddie!” Anna shouts my name as I finish clearing a table for four. Balancing plates and mugs in a precarious stack, I hurry back over to pick up the next batch of coffees.
“Table six!” Anna instructs as I dump the crockery in the already-full sink with a clatter. “Oat milk latte, americano with cold soy on the side, a mocha, and a peppermint tea. Take these over then I need more mugs asap!”
“Right,” I say, gripping the tray with the freshly made drinks and testing the weight of it. “It’s just… two tables are waiting to order—”
“They can wait!” Anna snaps. “I need time to catch up! Mugs first, then you can get their orders. Have you taken table three’s sandwiches over?”
I stare at her like a deer in the headlights. “Table three’s sandwiches?”
She shoots me a withering glare. “Two pastrami and emmental. Remember?”
I nod, but I can barely remember my own name at this point.
“Okay,” I pick up the tray of drinks. Damn, it’s heavy! “Drinks, then sandwiches, then mugs, then orders?”
Anna clicks her tongue. “Yes! Quickly!”
Quick as I dare, I make my way back around the counter. The drinks wobble precariously on the tray. I’m so focused on not spilling them, I’m barely looking where I’m going.
The little girl comes out of nowhere. A flash of blonde hair to my left is the only warning I get before she runs, full tilt, into my side, knocking me off balance. My hand slips and I watch in horror as the tray starts to fall. In a fraction of a second, I realise two things: one, there’s no saving the drinks, and two, if I don’t do something, this clumsy child is about to get a faceful of scalding hot coffee.
I throw myself between her and the falling tray, catching it from underneath with one hand and catapulting it in the other direction.Wham!It hits the floor with a deafening smash. Cups shatter, saucers crack, and coffee splatters up the walls with the force of a land mine.
Behind me, the café falls silent. Then someone shouts, “way-hey!” in a mocking voice which is followed by a ripple of laughter.
I hang my head. The mess is awful. I can’t bring myself to look at Anna. She’s been working so hard to keep us afloat and now I’ve wasted a whole table’s worth of drinks.
“Ava!” a stout woman rushes up and crouches beside the little girl. “Are you okay?”
“Yep,” says Ava like nothing’s happened.
