Page 34 of Common Grounds

“There’s probably a million just like that.” He smiles brightly, and his previous sadness is completely erased as if these warm and happy memories want to come pouring out of him. As if he wants to share them with me. There’s something about it that wakes up a place in my heart that has been dormant for a while. I rub my chest as he asks, “How much time do you have?”

“About ten more minutes if you were serious about that appointment at eleven-thirty.” Ethan pointedly looks at his watch, clearly referencing my initial thirty-minute time limit.

I chew on the side of my lip. “I think we can spare a little more time for the sake of the article.”

“For the sake of the article. Sure.”

I don’t appreciate Ethan’s sarcasm, but I can’t snap back without being obvious, so I let it go. As much as it pains me to do so.

“It’s okay if you have to go,” Trevor draws my attention back to him. “I’m just glad you came at all.”

I do want to get all my notes typed up to start drafting tomorrow. But more importantly, I know if I stay here any longer, I’m going to fall right into Trevor’s smile and not be able to climb back out. And my heart hasn’t quite stopped aching for him.

“I should actually probably go.” I wince apologetically.

“Seriously, it’s fine.” He starts to stand. “Can I get you a drink before you go?”

“Oh, no, that’s—”

“An iced matcha would be divine,” Ethan interjects.

Trevor beams. “Coming right up.” He shifts his gaze to me. “You sure?”

His hazelnut lattes are the best I’ve had in a long time, if I’m being honest. They’re creamy and not too sweet, and I’ve been thinking about them since Ethan brought me one last Monday.

I sigh. “If you’re making Ethan something anyway, I guess…”

Trevor beams yet again, as if making me a latte is the highlight of the day. Ethan snaps a few more pictures.

“Hazelnut, yeah? Coming right up.” Trevor slings his towel back over his shoulder. God, this man is going to be the end of me.

“Can you make it iced, actually?” If I take a sip of a hot drink, I might melt. Ethan shoots me a sidelong glance.

“It’s not that hot out today,” he whispers pointedly. I reach over quickly and pinch the back of his arm. He yelps and jumps out of my reach, rubbing his tricep and scowling. Serves him right.

He starts flipping through some of the photos on his camera, but when I try to peek over his shoulder, he tucks the screen against his chest and looks at me, offended. “You know you don’t get to see the rough drafts, Emery,” he scolds. “You see what I want you to see when I want you to see it.”

I lower my voice so Trevor can’t hear. “I know I’m in at least a few of those. They are not to make it to print, understood?”

He salutes. “Yes, ma’am.”

I don’t know why that bothers me so much that he was taking pictures of me, aside from the fact that the conversation felt private in a way I can’t quite put my finger on.

“Here you go.” Trevor comes around the counter and hands one cup to each of us. I waste no time taking a sip. I have to force myself not to moan. It’s even better cold than it is hot.

“Thanks for stopping in. I can’t wait to see Friday’s article.” He looks so eager that I have to take another sip to keep from grinning right back. A little piece of me is glad my last dud of a story didn’t disappoint him too much. An optimism like Trevor’s is rare, and I certainly don’t want to be the one to strip him of it.

I set my drink down and rummage through my bag for some cash.

“Oh, no. On the house,” he says.

I shoot him a skeptical look. “Can you really afford to be giving away free drinks?”

He huffs. “I’ve been asked that before. Maybe someday I’ll learn my lesson.”

“If you want to turn this place around, you’ll learn that lesson today,” I insist, pressing the money into his hand.

He looks at it thoughtfully, then nods. “Let me get you some change.”

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