Page 37 of Love You A Latte

I take the brief reprieve from Everly’s attention to type out a quick SOS message to Frankie, informing them that Everly knows and is freaking—in a good way—but losing itnonetheless.

My attention returns to hear Everly gushing to Asim about me and Frankie being together and how cute and perfect we are. That sounds like a lot of pressure, and Asim glances at me, probably seeing the beginnings of panic in my eyes.

“Ever,” he says, swiping a thumb across her bottom lip. She seems to get lost in his eyes, going silent as he continues. “Perhaps give them some space to decide what they want. Hmm, love?”

She blinks, then nods, looking sheepish.

“Right,” she says, turning back to me. “Sorry.”

“All good.” I let out a breath of relief.

“If you want to head over there, you can,” she says a moment later, winking at me. I shake my head, resisting the urge to do exactly that.

“Nah, I’m not here for much longer and haven’t gotten to see you at all yet. If you’re not too tired, want to hang out for a bit?”

~~~

Frankie ends up coming over that evening after Roasted closes, swaggering into the house like they own the place.

“I brought tequila!” Frankie shouts, holding up a bottle of the dangerous liquid. The three of us groan, half exasperated and half apprehensive. The only time Frankie breaks out tequila is for drinking games, and Frankie is notoriously good at them, as I learned last December.

“What?” they say, sticking their bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. I want to suck on it, and they smirk when they catch me eyeing them like I’m hungry. “I thought we could have a rematch! Another round of ‘Never Have I Ever’ so Asim can redeem himself.”

“Hey!” Everly yells, scowling at her best friend as she places a comforting hand on Asim’s chest. He’s chuckling though, and my heart pangs at the ease between the three of them. They’re clearly comfortable in each other’s company, and I feel like the odd one out.

Frankie snags glasses from the kitchen, then plops downon the couch next to me. My cushion bounces and I start to tip into them, sending a stroke of deja vu through me. They tug me into their side and press a kiss to my temple. My eyes flit to Everly, only to see she’s staring at us with a ravenous, eager expression, biting her lip to hold in a smile.

“I should have known you’d fall for the pretty, popular girl,” Everly says to Frankie as they pour tequila into shot glasses, teasing both of us. “Everyone always did.”

Frankie turns to me, a calculating look in their eye. I’m a couple years younger than Frankie and Everly, so we didn’t see much of each other at school, only when Frankie would come over to the house.

“Hmm, she was, was she?” Frankie says, eyes drifting up and down my body. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

I snag a glass and down the tequila, twisting my lips to the side as it burns my throat. Everly cackles, Frankie’s grin turns devious, and Asim smiles, then murmurs something I don’t catch into Everly’s ear. She’s a ball of energy bouncing on the couch until Asim pulls her into his lap and wraps his arms around her, dissipating some of her restless fidgeting.

“Enough chit-chat,” Frankie says, clapping their hands then refilling the shot glass I drained. “Never have I ever, round two, begins now!”

We all groan, knowing Frankie is going to win as they always do, but ready to have a good time anyway.

The evening passes easily with all of us enjoying some good-natured ribbing until Everly and Asim head to bed early. Frankie and I can’t get enough of each other. I’m desperate to spend every moment with them that I can, dreading the looming deadline ahead of me when I’ll have to board a plane and fly away from them. I hate not knowing how long it might be until I see them again, not knowing what our future holds or exactly how we’re going to make this work.

I check my phone constantly, hoping and dreading the email that never comes, informing me whether I got the transfer or not.

I spend the next two nights at Frankie’s, both of usfrantic with our affection, in denial of the short time we have left together. I eat lunch with Everly each day during her work break, and while I enjoy reconnecting with her, I’m fidgeting and restless the whole time. Itching to get back to Frankie.

I wake up early the morning of my last day here after spending the night in Frankie’s bed, like my body wants to take advantage of every precious second we have left before I leave. Frankie is already up, as usual, but it’s earlier than I’ve ever woken before. The sun is barely rising, streaking orange and pink across the brightening sky. It’s too pretty for such a sad day.

I wrap a throw blanket around my shoulders, not bothering to change out of my sleep tank and shorts yet, then wander down the stairs to find Frankie in the kitchen. They’re muttering under their breath, mixing batter like they’re furious at it.

“Frankie?” I ask, my voice coming out raspy from sleep.

They glance up, shock flitting across their face at seeing me conscious this early.

“You’re awake?”

“No,” I grumble, shuffling toward them. “It’s stupid early.”

They grin and set down the bowl and spatula, wiping their hands on a towel before wrapping me up in their arms. I slouch and tuck my face into their neck, burying the tip of my nose in their skin.

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