(Adrian’s POV)

By the time I step back onto the café floor, the rush has somehow gotten worse.

I don’t even know how that’s possible.

Every table is full, people are packed near the pickup counter, and somebody’s kid is still waving a half-eaten cake pop around like a weapon.

Jay sees me first.

“Oh good,” he says dramatically. “The dead rises.”

“I was gone for ten minutes.”

“It felt like war.”

Lia slides a drink across the counter toward a customer before looking at me. “How’s your face?”

“Still attached.”

“Proud of you.”

I roll my eyes and move back behind the register.

The second I log back in, the screen lights up with too many orders.

Again.

Normal.

Safe.

I can handle work. Work makes sense.

People don’t.

Unfortunately, Blake is both.

Which means the second I look up and see him laughing near the window with a girl around our age, my mood drops immediately.

Not because I care.

Obviously.

She’s pretty. Blonde hair, oversized sweater, bright smile. The kind of girl Blake always attracts without even trying.

And Blake  

Blake is flirting back without thinking.

Because of course he is.

He leans against the counter slightly while she talks, smiling in that easy way he does with everybody. The smile that makes people instantly comfortable around him.

I hate that smile.

Not actually hate.

Just  

Whatever.

The girl laughs at something he says and lightly touches his arm.

My stomach twists weirdly.

I look back at the register immediately.

“Medium mocha for Sarah,” I call flatly.

“Your customer service voice got colder,” Lia mutters beside me.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Mhm.”

I punch another order into the system harder than necessary.

Across the café, Blake says something else that makes the girl laugh again.

And the stupid part?

The genuinely stupid part?

Is that he’s probably not even aware he’s flirting.

Blake breathes and people think he’s flirting.

That’s just who he is.

Friendly. Confident. Warm without trying.

Meanwhile I can barely make eye contact with customers before sounding irritated.

“Adrian.”

I glance up.

Jenna stands near the hallway leading to her office.

She jerks her head toward Blake.

“Office. Now.”

Blake blinks from across the café. “What did I do?”

“Move.”

Jay immediately gasps dramatically. “Ooooh, he’s in trouble.”

“I hate all of you,” Blake mutters while heading toward the office.

Lia grins. “Love you too.”

I try not to watch him go.

Try being the important word.

The second the office door closes, Jay slides beside me.

“So,” he says.

“So what?”

“You look jealous.”

I almost miss-click the register.

“I do not.”

“Adrian,” Lia says from the espresso machine, “you stared at that girl like she personally offended your bloodline.”

“I was not staring.”

“You absolutely were,” Jay says.

“She touched his arm,” Lia adds.

“Ohhh,” Jay says dramatically. “That explains it.”

I glare at both of them. “Can you guys be normal for once?”

“No,” they answer together.

I hate this place.

Meanwhile    Jenna’s Office

(Blake’s POV)

Jenna shuts the office door behind me and points toward the chair across from her desk.

I sit slowly.

“Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated?”

“Because you are.”

“Cool.”

She leans back in her chair, arms crossed. “How do you feel about Adrian?”

I blink once.

Then laugh nervously.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A simple one.”

“He’s my best friend.”

“Mhm.”

“And coworker.”

“Blake.”

I groan and drop my head back against the chair dramatically. “You sound exactly like Lia right now.”

“That’s because all of us are tired of watching you two circle each other like confused deer.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Yes you do.”

I stare at the ceiling for a second.

Then sigh.

“I mean…” I shrug awkwardly. “He’s Adrian.”

“That is not an answer.”

“It is in my head.”

Jenna waits patiently.

Which is honestly worse than if she pushed.

I rub a hand over my face.

“I dunno,” I mumble. “He’s just… important.”

Her expression softens immediately.

“There we go.”

I ignore that.

“When did you meet him again?” she asks.

“Summer camp. We were eight.”

A smile pulls at my mouth before I can stop it.

Jenna notices instantly.

“Oh, this should be good.”

“He punched me on the first day.”

She bursts out laughing. “Excuse me?”

“I deserved it!”

“That doesn’t make it less funny.”

I grin despite myself.

“There was this huge line for snow cones,” I explain. “And I cut in front of him because I thought he was too quiet to say anything.”

“And?”

“And he punched me in the stomach.”

Jenna is fully laughing now.

“He was tiny too,” I continue. “Like actually tiny. Angriest little kid I’ve ever seen.”

“And you became friends after that?”

“He shared his snow cone with me later.”

“A true love story.”

I throw a napkin at her.

But I’m smiling now. I can feel it.

Because once I start thinking about Adrian, it’s hard to stop.

“He used to bring books everywhere,” I say. “Like everywhere. Even campfire stuff.”

“Mhm.”

“And he’d pretend he hated group activities, but he secretly liked them if he thought nobody noticed.”

Jenna stays quiet, listening.

“He still does this thing where he taps his fingers against cups when he’s stressed,” I say absentmindedly. “And he always gets quieter when he’s overwhelmed instead of louder.”

The words come too naturally.

Too easily.

“He remembers everything too,” I continue. “Like weird tiny details nobody else pays attention to. My favorite energy drink. The first movie I cried at. The fact I hate pickles.”

Jenna smiles knowingly.

I ignore it and keep going.

“And he acts meaner than he actually is,” I mutter. “People think he’s intimidating at first, but he’s really not. He just gets nervous.”

“Blake.”

“And he cares too much about everyone,” I continue over her. “Like, way too much. He pretends he doesn’t, but he does.”

The room goes quieter.

Because now I hear myself.

Really hear myself.

Jenna raises one eyebrow slowly.

I stare at the desk.

“…Oh.”

“Yeah,” she says softly.

I sit there for a second processing everything I just said out loud.

Then immediately groan and cover my face.

“Oh my god.”