Page 3 of Love You A Latte

Something’s off with Addison. I’m not sure what it is, but the confident, bubbly, sunshine creature I couldn’t take my eyes off a few months ago is missing, and in her place is a confused, stammering, lost little puppy.

Still hot as fuck, though.

I shake my head, needing to get my mind out of the gutter. I try not to check her out, but it’s nearly impossible. She’s my every temptation, and that off-the-shoulder tee showing off a collarbone I want to taste is not making things any easier. I shift on my feet as she shuffles toward me and slides into the passenger seat. It’s not my business, but I’m having a hard time not demanding to know what’s on her mind, what’s happened to her relentless smile.

I round the truck and take us out of the airport, turning on the radio and settling in for the drive back to Stone Ridge. I’m bopping along with my tunes, wind weaving through my hand out the window, when Addison practically yells at me.

“Can we put the windows up?” she shouts to be heard over the music and wind. When I glance over at her, I feel like a jerk.

I was trying so hard to avoid ogling her—to avoid even thinking about her—that I didn’t notice how uncomfortable she was. Her beachy hair is a windblown mess and her cheeks are stung red from the breeze, ormaybe the heat. I roll up the windows, apologizing as I turn the music down and put on the air conditioning.

The relative silence that descends is awkward, and I struggle to figure out why. How do I bridge this gap between us? Before I can figure it out, Addison starts chattering.

“I can’t believe how hot it is, how do you not have the air pumping 24/7?” she says, fanning herself.

I bump the fans up a couple notches.

“I guess you get used to it,” I shrug, “sorry for not thinking of that. Feel free to adjust it anytime.” I gesture to the dash and she nods.

“Thanks,” she says. “And thank you for picking me up. I hope it’s not too much of a hassle, I know it’s a long drive and especially having to go both directions. I feel so bad for hijacking your day. I’m happy to help out at the coffee shop to pay you back!”

I toss a bemused smile in her direction.

“No worries, it’s about time I got out of Stone Ridge anyways,” I say.

“What do you mean?”

I glance at her, trying to gauge her reaction. “I’ve never left. This is the first time.”

“Wait, what?” Addison says. “You’ve never been out of town?”

“Nope.”

Addison blinks at me, and I shrug again, turning back to the road.

“I mean… why not?”

“I’ve just never really cared to. I like our little town, it has everything I need. Nothing has ever given me enough reason to leave.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you’ve never left Stone Ridge. Do you want to stop anywhere? I’m not in a rush, I mean besides having to let Moose out, so we can’t take too long, but if there’s anywhere you want to go,” she trails off, glancing at my fingers tapping along to the beat on the steering wheel from the corner of her eye.

I shake my head. “Nah, I’m good, we can just head back.”

“Okay. Cool.” Addison bobs her head a couple times, and I hold in an amused grin, relaxing back into my seat as I drive.

“So, how’s work going?” she asks.

“Yeah it’s pretty good, same as usual. Just coffee shop stuff,” I reply. “How about you?”

I know she does something in the business world, but I’m not clear on exactly what it is. To be fair though, we didn’t do much work talk when she showed up in town a few months ago, the only time I’ve spoken to her in over eight years. What I don’t expect is for her to launch into a full blown rant about the work drama she’s currently dealing with. Something about wanting a hybrid position, but her boss being unsure about the feasibility of it. I’m doing my best to follow, but I don’t think she’s making complete sense. Regardless, my brain jumps into hyper focus when I hear her mention an ex.

“I just don’t want to work with my ex anymore. He keeps coming on to me even though we’ve been split up for years now, and he’s been dating someone else. I don’t get why he won’t leave me alone. I mean I’ve tried to set boundaries, and I’ve talked to HR, but they don’t seem to care. Everyone thinks he’s such anice guywho just wants to help and it makes me seem like a dramatic brat not wanting him around me.”

It takes all of my willpower not to interrupt and ask for this asshole’s name, but what am I going to do? Jump on a plane and go beat him up? No.

Maybe.

“So anyway, I put in an internal transfer request, but haven’t heard back yet. I just really want to get out of there, you know?”

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