Page 12 of Love You A Latte

I keep glancing to my right, eyeing Frankie from the corner of my eye. My mind is running faster than my heart can keep up with, despite how hard it’s trying. I keep feeling their eyes on me too, and when our gazes collide, everything stops. I get lost in their hazel eyes, noting the sparks of gold and green flecked around the middle. Their lashes are dark and thick, indecently long, and from the looks of it they’re wearing eyeliner but not mascara. I take in every detail I can, my hands working on autopilot as I barely pay attention to the washing.

“Oof.”

The platter I attempted to pick up next is heavier than I expect, and it splashes into the sink when I lose my grip, bursting our moment.

“Well,” Frankie says, wiping a streak of water from their cheek, then turning to look me over. Their lips quirk up. “I like your shirt.”

I chose a pale yellow tee this time, with a hot pink, purple, and blue stegosaurus on it. Unfortunately, pale yellow plus water equals transparent, and my nude push-up bra is clearly visible behind the stegosaurus’ plates.

“Of course,” I say with a sigh.

Nothing to be done about it now. Thankfully I didn’t wear something embarrassing underneath. When I glance up at Frankie though, they’re clearly holding in a laugh.

“What?” I demand.

“I just didn’t realize someone could make such a mess ofwashing dishes,” they say, eyes flicking up and down my form. They reach up to swipe bubbles out of my hair.

“Oh hush,” I say with a laugh. Then decide to lean into it.

I pick the platter up again, angling it as I lean away from Frankie, and…

“Oops!”

It splashes back into the sink, this time shooting water in Frankie’s direction.

“Hey!” they fling their arms up to block the water, but of course their hands and arms are already wet, and that just sends more water flying.

It breaks the ice, and next thing I know, we’re laughing and passing dishes back and forth. I tell them about the antics Moose got up to this afternoon, and they fill me in on some of the town gossip. I’m a sucker for a reality show, and Stone Ridge could be up there with the best of them with the way this town’s gossip mill runs. Everly never cares about what’s going on around town, she hardly even deigns to mention Frankie, so hearing everything about everyone is a delight.

I learn that Alex, the local baker who makes all the treats for the coffee shop, has been experimenting with new recipes, but the older ladies in town hate it. They want the classics, so they’ve tried to boycott the bakery. Except there’s nowhere else to get the baked goods they love so much, so they tried making them on their own, only to have the fire truck called to one of their houses when they started a small kitchen fire.

I can’t stop laughing at how animated Frankie is. They wave their arms, use different voices for each person. They put their whole body into telling the stories, and soon we’re not washing dishes anymore. Frankie is leaning against the counter across from me as we swap stories.

“Have you eaten?” Frankie says, pulling open the fridge. “I never ate the sandwich I made for lunch, you want to split it?”

They unwrap a sandwich bursting with veggies and offer me half, which I gladly accept. Frankie grabs a couple paper towels and angles their head for me to follow. I takein the serenity of the space as we make our way to the coffee shop couch by the front windows. Frankie sits down next to me, their knee bumping into mine when they fold one leg up. My appetite comes roaring back once my nerves settle, and I devour my half in only a few bites. I lean back against the worn cushions with a contented sigh.

Frankie dusts their hands off and crinkles up the wrapper, then angles their body toward mine.

“Thanks for coming over, I’m not sure I’ve ever had so much fun washing dishes,” they say.

I grin in reply as my heart gallops in my chest, but I shrug one shoulder like it’s no big deal. The movement draws their gaze down to my transparent shirt for a moment, though it’s thankfully starting to dry now. More of my hair has come loose from the clip, and Frankie leans forward to tuck it behind my ear. It sends a shiver down my spine and their eyes heat.

“Can I take you out?” Frankie says, their voice strong, confident.

“Like, on a date?” I ask, wanting to be sure my hopeful heart isn’t causing me to misinterpret and hear what I want to hear.

“Yeah,” Frankie says, their crooked smile stretching to the side as they trace their fingers lightly down my neck, over my shoulder, and down my arm. “I’d like to take you on a date.”

“Okay,” I reply, immediately feeling embarrassed at how breathy that came out. I clear my throat and sit up straighter. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Frankie bites their bottom lip, catching my gaze. My skin heats when they release it and the color darkens, then their tongue swipes out, wetting it, and I’ve never wanted to taste anything so badly as I do their lips in this moment.

I lean forward slowly, closing the inches of space between us, my own lips parting as my gaze darts between their eyes and their mouth.

My phone buzzes across the coffee table in front of us, and I startle so badly I nearly leap out of my skin, banging my elbow against the arm rest. The buzzing is so loud in the quiet of the coffeehouse it sounds like some sort ofalarm system ricocheting through the room. I press a hand to my chest, willing my heart to calm, and Frankie draws back with a resigned chuckle.

“You okay?” they ask, and I puff out my cheeks on a huff.

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