Page 32 of Love You A Latte

I stare, bewildered as they try to rein in their choking laughs.

Eventually, we help each other stand, then bob and sway our way back to Everly’s house.

“Hi cute boy,” I say, scratching Moose on his rump as his tail thwacks my legs. “At least you’re happy to see us, yes you are.”

Frankie orders pizza for a late dinner, and we settle onto the couch, flipping to a reality show on the TV.

It’s not long before I’m tipping sideways, sinking into the couch and snuggling into Frankie as my eyes get heavier with each blink.

I feel arms around me, hear footfalls on the stairs, smell the comforting scent of the sheets on my bed. A wet nose presses to my hand before blankets are pulled on top of me and I curl into them with a hum of contentment, already sinking back into the darkness.

I hear a whine that almost rouses me, then a whisper as steps softly pad away.

“I know, I want to be in the bed with her too…” the voice says. A voice I really like, one that I wish would stay with me, but I’m not even sure if it’s real, and before I know it, I’m lost to sleep.

~~~

I wake up the next morning to a slight headache, and the delicious smell of coffee with a side helping of embarrassment. Last night could have—should have—been a great night, but I had to go and fall asleep! Like some sort of amateur. My grand ideas of celebrating and then getting tossed around a bit seem unattainable now, after my abysmal performance last night.

I snag a throw blanket and wrap it around my shoulders, then take in a deliciously cozy looking Frankie sitting up on the couch. Sleep-rumpled curls, wearing only a button down flannel and sipping a cup of heaven. I walk right up to them, following my nose until it nearly bumps into Frankie’s mug.

Frankie takes a sip, raising their eyebrows at me over the rim as my eyes follow the mug to their lips. After taking a sip, they barely tip it in my direction, and my hands dart up without my permission, slipping over top of Frankie’s hands around the mug.

I inhale again, the comforting coffee scent easing the tension in my neck as I take a sip and close my eyes. I don’t register the moan coming from the back of my throat, or that I’m still gripping Frankie’s hands around the mug, until they pointedly clear their throat.

I open my eyes, only to realize I’m inches from Frankie, who didn’t move back when I invaded their space. Our eyes catch and hold. Have I ever seen more captivating hazel eyes? Light brown with flecks of chocolate and gold, framed by dark, thick lashes. One eye has a tiny freckle right below the outer corner. I reach up with one fingertip and touch it, light as a feather, and then Moose shoves between us.

The moment breaks as a slobbery toy is thrust into my thigh and I squeak with alarm as I attempt to hold my hands steady and avoid spilling coffee over all three of us.

“Moose!” I say, then slowly release my hands from the mug, although my eyes linger on the divine beverage a moment longer than necessary.

“I’ll go make you some,” Frankie says, humor lining their voice.

“Oh no, that’s okay,” I say. “I can do it.”

Frankie just waves at me to sit down as they stride into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a basic vanilla latte.

“Thank you,” I say, being mindfulnotto moan as I take a sip this time.

“No problem,” Frankie says. “I gotta head out, though. I’ve left the kids alone at the shop long enough I think.”

I nod, still lost in my coffee, and Frankie slips a hand through my tangled hair, then tilts my face up to theirs. They step closer and lean down, hovering over me on the couch.

“Will I see you there later?” Frankie says.

“Yeah,” I say, my reply breathy as they lightly tug my hair.

“See you later, then.”

A barely there brush of their lips against mine, and then they’re gone, the truck rumbling down the driveway. I’m left with Moose giving me puppy-dog eyes and a disgusting toy that I pick up and toss across the room, smiling at his antics as he bounds after it.

Frankie

We spend two blissful days avoiding the topic of Addison’s looming departure, “working” together at the coffee shop—Addison on her laptop and me behind the counter. Until I can’t handle not touching her, which happens nearly every hour, and I wander over to rub her neck or twine my fingers through her hair or drop a kiss on her lips.

She smiles every time, sweet thing that she is, and it lights me up inside. I know we need to talk about us. About our relationship, and what we’re going to do when Everly and Asim get back tomorrow and Addison has to leave shortly after that. We both keep pushing it away to focus on other, more physical aspects of our relationship. That side of things could not be going better.

I suspect neither of us has a good answer to what we’re going to do, though, and that worries me. I’m determined to make it work, I just need to hear her thoughts first. I need to hear her say she feels the same way, that she wants me.

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