Page 60 of She Was Made for Me

I order a hot chocolate, then lean against the counter with a sigh while I wait.

“I love your dress,” Daisy says.

“Thanks. I just came from a date.”

Her brow furrows. I know what she’s thinking—it can’t have been a very good date if I’m here, at ten o’clock, alone, but she keeps this to herself as she focuses intently on steaming the milk.

I laugh. “It wasn’t meant to be.” I pause, wondering if I should try to set her up with Owen like I’d considered earlier, but she speaks before I can say anything more.

“That’s a shame. I think you two would make a good couple.”

I falter. “Me and who?”

She looks up from the milk. “The guy who always comes in for a decaf cappuccino. The older one. Kyle, isn’t it?”

Despite myself, I smile. “He wasn’t my date.”

Daisy’s delicately-freckled cheeks color. “I just assumed…” she trails off, then continues when she catches my curious expression. “I got a vibe when I saw you two together, and I overheard you talking to your friend the other day. Sorry,” she adds, and I shake my head.

“It’s okay. You’re right: there is something between us. Or at least, there should be.”

Her eyebrows rise. “But there isn’t?”

“It’s… complicated.”

“How so?”

I smile wearily. “How much time do you have?”

Her gaze drifts over the empty coffee shop and back to me. “If you don’t mind me wiping tables and cleaning while you talk, I’ve got all the time in the world.”

I laugh, sinking into a chair at a nearby table. “Alright then. He’s my dad’s friend.”

Daisy nods, focusing on carefully pouring the hot chocolate. “So he’s, what, twenty years older than you?”

“Eighteen,” I correct. “I know that’s a lot, but… I don’t care.” The truth is, I’ve never cared about his age, not from the moment I met him. I care aboutwhohe is—the man who looks out for me, who teaches me interesting things about the house and the neighborhood, who’s reminded me what it means to have a life outside of my job.

“I’m not judging,” she says kindly. “I’ve actually, uh, got a little crush on an older guy who’s started coming here every morning.”

“There’s something about an older man that’s so hot, right?” I grin and Daisy nods in agreement.

Fuck yes, sweetheart, get off on me.

Kyle’s words from last night replay in my mind, sending a shiver of heat through me, and I add, “I bet they’re way better in bed than guys our age, too.”

Red streaks across Daisy’s cheeks, and she glances away. “Probably,” she murmurs.

I cringe inwardly at my big mouth. I hardly know her and here I am talking about sex like we’re old friends. Sometimes I forget not everyone is as open about this stuff as Sadie.

“Well,” I begin, trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground. “Maybe you should ask him out.”

“Oh, no.” She glances back at me with a sigh. “I think he’s married. I just like to look.”

“Bummer.”

She sets my hot chocolate in front of me, and I look down to see the most beautiful latte art in the milk—two hearts made of chocolate syrup and foam, linked together.

When I glance up at her, she smiles. “Think of it as a little good luck for you and Kyle.”

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