Chapter 1
Zach
“Hey Zach.”
A gruff voice makes my head snap up to peer over the espresso machine I’m currently working. A 6’5” man stands there, his smile soft and his blue eyes sparkling. I give him a flirty smile, because everyone deserves a flirty smile with their morning coffee.
“Hey there, Tyler.”
Tyler has been a regular at this coffee shop for years. So when I started here a few months ago, he was the first regular I met. He’s always been kind, and obviously interested in me.
“Tonight’s the night. Are you going to let me take you out?” He asks. It’s not coming from nowhere. We’ve been flirting. I’ve been expecting him to ask me out. Now that the time has come, I am wondering why I’m not interested.
He's hot, objectively, with floppy brown hair that you want to run your fingers through, and eyes that could mesmerize if I let them. And yet, I feel nothing.
"Sorry," I say. "I have plans."
Not a lie. The plans are technically work, and the work is technically not something I can discuss. But not a lie.
His smile falls, but he scrambles to put it back in place. "Some other time then."
"Yeah," I say in that tone that says, "Never going to happen."
He salutes me with his caramel latte and tries to saunter out the café door without a care in the world.
Darla, my best friend in the world, is on me faster than I can blink. "I'm sorry, what was wrong with that one?"
I take some time with my latte art in an attempt to think of what to say. Nothing was wrong with him. That was the problem. He was gorgeous, casually flirty, we already bonded over similar music taste, so I had nothing to say.
Just that he wasn't…right.
"Too short," I murmur before yelling out the name on the hot matcha I just placed on the bar. The huff I hear at my back is so close, I know when I turn around she will be close enough to kiss me. Thank goodness we're both gay, I guess.
Sure enough, when I turn, I see all 5' nothing of her glaring up at 6'0" of me. "You are so full of shit, Zach."
It’s then that I notice someone watching us at the counter. “You’ve got a customer,” I say to her, hoping it gets her mind off of what just happened.
She points one finger at me, as if in threat, before walking over to the customer with a fake smile to take his order. I don’t move. I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to, and even though she never told me to stay still, I know she’ll be angry if I move.
She quickly writes the guys order on a cup before slamming it down on the counter. She stomps over to me with a huff. “Where were we?”
“I’m so full of shit,” I say.
“Right.” She tucks a stray hair behind her ears. “How could you say no to him?!”
I smile wide, the kind of smile that has gotten me out of more than one problem growing up, and lace in a bit of southern sweetness. "Sorry, darlin'. You know I ain't used to all this masculine attention."
She seems momentarily dazed by my charm, and I almost slide past her until her hand snatches my forearm, long nails digging in. I'm surprised. That usually works on people in the Northeast, but I guess Darla's New York roots see through most of my bullshit.
"Don't you 'darlin' me," she growls at me, and it catches me completely off guard. No one has ever growled at me before. It would be hot if she was a guy. "You are sabotaging yourself."
I wave my hand in the air dramatically, hoping it came across as "funny dramatic" and not "lying dramatic." Because she wasn't wrong. I've definitely been up to shady things in my free time that I have been dying to tell her about, but that pesky contract has me by the dick.
"Do you think that you're a good liar or do you know that you suck?"
God, I love her. She's so feisty, and small, and way too astute. "Oh, I know I suck. Just can't do a damn thing about it."
She lets out an exaggerated sigh, releasing my arm as I go to refill the coffee beans. "What are you doing, man?"
"Dunno," I say, because I don't know what else I can say.
"Are you depressed?" she asks suddenly, and I shake my head. "You sure?"
How can she go from "crazy bitch" to "so sweet" in two seconds? That was Darla: sharp, tiny, and impossible not to love. "I'm sure. But if I was, you would be the first person I'd go to."
She nods, knowing this is the truth. Ever since I moved to Boston at the young age of 18, she has been my ride or die. She and I started at this coffee shop together and we will end up in the same nursing home together.
There are just some things she can't know. Or at least, not yet. Not until after tonight.
I perk up, knowing it's my job to keep it together for both of us. "Girl, you never told me about your date last night."
Her eyes light up, and she tells me the great epic love story that is her and Lily. Lily sounds like she has more than a few red flags, which works out because Darla loves drama. Sounds perfect for her.
We still laugh and joke throughout the rest of the shift. Nothing changes there, but there's a vibe I can't quite shake. I hope it's just for the short-term.
When it's time to close, the silence is louder than normal. She cleans out the espresso machine while I sweep and mop the floor. This is usually where we’ll talk about the next time we’re going to meet up, but Darla is suspiciously not mentioning the concert she got us tickets for this weekend.
I try not to read too much into it.
She kisses me on the cheek as usual before letting me lock everything up. Technically she doesn’t have to stay but she usually does. I guess today is not like usual.
I watch her with a soft smile as she gathers her belongings and exits the cafe door, letting the bell chime echo through the quiet shop.
When she's gone, my smile fades, and I can only hope that Darla will still be my friend in the morning. Honestly, I wouldn't put up with my own bullshit, so the fact that she does makes her a saint. But it's only for one more night, and then I can finally tell her the truth.
When I get in my car after locking the place down, I throw my apron to the seat beside me, setting my playlist for the ride home.
Time to go masturbate for my last demon, I guess.
I smile to myself. I can't wait.
