Page 17 of Bittersweet

I come around the counter and greet him with a bro hug. “What are you doing here, man? You’re not usually up beforetwelve.”

Nico’s parents are filthy rich, and the man’s never worked a day in his life. Instead, he flunked business school, found a money manager, invested all his trust fund into some revolutionary dating app, and now he sleeps till noon, drinks all night, and does absolutely nothing. I’d go crazy with that kind offreedom.

“Yeah well, my sleepover turned into an actual sleepover, and I needed an excuse to get rid of her.” He shrugs and gives a lax grin. “So I pretended I had a job to goto.”

“Jesus. Not an actual job?” I shake my head. “That must have hurt. Can I get you an icepack?”

“Shut up. Not all of us can be as blue-collar as you are. Doesn’t it get boring, waking up every morning to do the same shit over and overagain?”

“Not when you love what youdo.”

He screws up his face and rolls his eyes, exasperated. “Yeah, yeah. I’m bored now. Make me a damncoffee.”

I chuckle and step back behind the counter, and Nico, never having the wherewithal to know when he’s not welcome, follows. “Where’s my favoritegirl?”

B gives him the kind of smile that used to terrify me as a kid. “Right here, dumbass, and she’s still notinterested.”

“Aww, B, is that you? I didn’t recognize you without the pointy tail and horns growing from out of your forehead.” He makes kissy faces at her. B’s knuckles whiten around the tongs as they snap together. Nico shoves his hand inside the display case—without a glove, of course—and helps himself to several small Danish pastries, and a cupcake. “I was talking aboutCoco.”

“She’s at preschool. Where you should be,” B fires back. My sister isruthless.

Nico shoves one of the pastries into his mouth and chews. That’s when he finally glances around theshop.

I see the moment his eyes land on Romy because he stills. He stops chewing and his mouth tips up in the corner, just a fraction of an inch. Once he’s done masticating his food, he turns to me, his grin still firmly in place. Somehow, since Romy moved into the building above my shop, I’ve avoided the two of them crossing paths, but I know now all bets areoff.

“Who’s theh—"

“No,” I say automatically, hitting the switch to grind the beans. I pull the lever a little too hard when filling my group handle and tamp it longer than necessary. I may have imagined my best friend’s face beneathit.

“What?”

“No. I know what you’re thinking and she’s off limits.” I shove the handle up into the machine and slide a cup beneath it, jabbing at the startbutton.

“You’re sticking it toher?”

I don’t know whether to be more offended by the idea of him talking shit about Romy or the fact that he sounds surprised. I take the metal jug and begin frothing themilk.

“No, and neither are you. She’s a regular, and I want to keep it thatway.”

He laughs. “So, me fucking her would, what? Ensure she never comesback?”

“Probably.”

Nico studies me as I bang the creamer jug on the counter to dispel any unwanted air bubbles. He chuckles.Too loud. It grates on my nerves, and I don’t realize I’m clenching my jaw until he says, “Jesus Christ. You have thatlook.”

I don’t ask what the hell he’s talking about because I already know. Instead, I give him a glare that says “do not fuckingstart.”

“Ah hell, you got that same look you had when that Park Avenue bitch walked into the bar and decided that fucking a commoner would piss her parents off just the rightamount.”

“Don’t talk about her likethat.”

“Like what? The heartless bitch she is? She left you, man, with a fuckinginfant.”

I glance at Romy, relieved when I see she isn’t paying attention but is instead focused on her laptop. “Keep your voicedown.”

“Why?”

“Because this is a place ofbusiness.”

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