Page 6 of Love You A Latte

I drop my hands from my face as soon as they disappear from view, then knock my forehead down on the edge of the table. I literally didn’t say one word so Frankie had an entire one-sided conversation. Moose looks up at me with concern in his big brown eyes.

“I know. I’m an idiot,” I whisper to him.

His tail wags.

I take it as encouragement rather than agreement this time.

When I hear the back door open, I suck in a breath and sit up, refusing to rub my forehead or otherwise look like a fool in front of Frankie again. They’re not looking in my direction, though. Their arms are full, muscles flexed under rolled t-shirt sleeves as they carry two boxes behind the counter and drop them to the floor, then nudge them aside so they have room to help the waiting customer.

I try to think of a plan to get over this weird crush. But maybe I don’t need to get over it. I’m pretty sure they were flirting with me again, which doesn’t make sense after they rejected me a few months ago. Maybe they’re a super flirty person and they flirt with everyone.

I decide that must be it, which makes me feel much better, actually. It’s not anything to do with me, which means this can be a normal situation. Normal I can do. Normal, I’m great at.

Frankie glances my direction and seems to realize I’m over my weird moment. With a quick grin, they step over and slide into the chair next to me, angling it so they’re facing the entrance and can also see the counter.

I decide to speak first this time.

“I’d like to pay you back for yesterday,” I say.

Frankie’s hazel eyes sparkle. “Yeah? For what?”

“The ride,” I say, twisting my hands together in my lap. “I really appreciate it and you saved me a ton of time and money. The least I can do is pay you back.”

“Pfft,” Frankie waves me off with a huff. “I don’t need or want your money, sweets.”

“Okay well, can I help out here or something then? I’d feel better if I could make it up to you somehow.”

I think I might be pouting, and based on the fact that Frankie’s eyes are focused on my mouth, it might be working.

“And how do you propose making it up to me?” they say, gaze slowly wandering back up to meet mine.

The first thing that pops into my head is definitely not appropriate, and my cheeks heat again at the thought. Their eyes flare the tiniest bit when they dart to my reddened cheeks. So much for being normal, for being in control this time.

“I could…” I trail off, eyes flitting around for any idea that doesn’t involve shedding our clothes. “I could help out around here?”

“You know how to make lattes?”

‘Well, no.”

“Can you bake?”

“Um, I mean,” I trail off again with a heavy exhale as I slouch in my seat. No, I don’t know how to do anything that might be considered helpful at a coffee shop. Frankie notices my deflation and their eyes widen again. They sit forward and reach one hand toward me, but drop it with a frown when they notice the movement.

“I guess you could always help clean up,” they say, then their face transforms with a smirk. “I assume you do know how to use a washrag, at least?”

“Uh,” I huff. “Obviously.”

Of course I know how to clean, I’m a grown adult. Just because I used to be a spoiled brat doesn’t mean I still am. I grumble under my breath.

Frankie laughs, loud and unrestrained, the same as I remember it.

“Did you just growl? That’s cute,” they say, stillchuckling, and I flush again, but their laugh and smile are contagious. I grin back, then reach out a hand to playfully smack their arm.

They track the movement with their eyes, which are bright when they meet my gaze again.

“You just might pay for that someday,” they say, and my lower stomach clenches at the husky note in their voice.

“Extra hours?” I quip, and they chuckle again.

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