Page 97 of Average Joe

“Bingo.” I reached up, gave his cheek a pat, and said, “Bye, Joe,” then closed the door and locked myself in.

Faster than a Broadway dancer, I stripped out of my sweats and slapped on my outfit, a simple black bikini. I made myself an espresso, flipped the lights to theOnposition, then fixed my lipstick, feeling only slightly guilty for making Prius Guy wait.

I slid open the window and gave him a perky, “Good morning.”

He wore his usual attire, dress shirt and tie. Hair was the same, combed back off his face. But those eyes? Dark. Vacant. And staring straight at me. Never once in all the years of patronage had he made direct eye contact.

“Morning,” he said, tone brusque.

“Usual?” I forced sweetness into my voice, feeling anything but.

Lips pursed, he nodded, and the same painful tingles I’d felt a mere hour ago shimmied up my spine and over my scalp.

I made his soymilk latte, ignoring the prickles on my bare skin, and for the first time since opening Pink Sweets, I considered retiring my pasties.

Maybe the time had come for me to step behind the scenes. Age was nobody’s friend, especially mine. My figure was harder to maintain, and my youthful glow was more a flicker, as tended to happen when you had to grow up too fast. Or maybe Joe had wormed his way inside my head, made me question my future in the sexy coffee industry.

Either way, the vulnerability was raw and honest and pissing me off.

Before turning to face my customer again, I drew a deep breath and released the air nice and slow, willing my shoulders to relax and my thoughts to calm.

When I turned, he held a fifty-dollar bill toward me. I exchanged the bill for his mug, and he drove away before I could make change. No nod. No “thank you.” Just gone.

“Thank God,” I mumbled to the ceiling. The knot in my gut finally loosened.

Until I noticed Joe rolling out of the lot. He, too, failed to acknowledge me as he followed the Prius north, a deadly glare aimed at the tiny car.

Marley

Bruce dashed after the ball, surprisingly agile for his size. He loped back and dropped the sloppy mess at my feet, a smile on his face, his stubby tail wagging. I glanced at Joe’s house. No sign of life.

We’d only been home from Whisper Springs for a few hours, and though I’d needed that visit with my mother, I’d spent every day of the past week missing my neighbor.

Joe had texted obsessively. Checking in. Sending stupid memes. Dick pics every night. Never thought I’d be a girl who liked getting dick pics, but Joe made everything fun, and his cock was a work of art.

My phone buzzed, setting my heart to flight, and I tugged the cell out of my back pocket.

Lilly. Not Joe. My ticker crashed back to earth with a splat.

“Hey, girl. Everything okay?”

“I know it’s your last day of vacation, but you need to get your ass over here.”

Horrible scenarios flashed through my mind. Most of them involved Prius Guy, a machete, and bloodied baristas. Not sure why, but that guy had weaseled his way under my skin. “What happened?”

“Our new neighbors moved in.”

A wave of relief washed over me. Nobody was hurt, thank God. “That bad?”

“Worse,” she huffed. “So much worse.”

“Goddamnit!” I shouted, kicking Bruce’s ball in frustration. “Just tell me.”

“Did you just use the Lord’s name in vain?”

So not the time for humor. “You are so fired.”

“Just get your butt over here, and bring your boxing gloves.” Lilly ended the call.