Page 41 of Nine-Tenths

I had it on silent. Gemma has textedWho is that?with a heart-eyes emoji. There's a missed call from Mum, and an email from Auntie Pattie that reads,I didn't realize it runs in the family.I'm too annoyed someone forwarded the picture to her to ask what she means. And there is one text from Rebekah. All it says isI approve.

Christ.

"Hadi!" I whine. "Did you have to?"

"Customers were asking who he was. Sorry, not sorry."

And the photo itself is… shit, it'snice.

Dav's hair is pushed to the side by a breeze, loose and casual, glowing in the sunlight. He's walking a few steps ahead of me, body angled so his torso is pointed toward the camera. God, his shoulders look amazing, his trim waist nipped in. Today's outfit—a copper dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his top button undone, under a sharp waistcoat-and-trouser set in a deep chocolate—makes him look like some sort of bronze statue come to life.

I look like a scarecrow, caught mid-stride. I've got my chin tilted up at Dav, a wide smile on my face and a splotch of mustard on my shirt collar. (I check now, and yup, it's still there. Dammit.)

Our near arms are angled toward one another, his hip blocking most of our hands. If you weren't looking for it, you wouldn't even notice Dav and I have our pinkie fingers locked together.

Hadi's put a deep-shadowed syrupy-amber filter on the photo, so it looks like something out of Vanity Fair.

Underneath it says:Welcome to Beanevolence's newest (volunteer) employee, "Dav". He's been helping us out since the fire, bringing his secret bean-roasting technique to the back room while we wait for our new machine to come in. No, he won't tell us what he's doing differently either, but trust us, you gotta taste the results.

The comments are mostly congratulating Beanevolence for reopening, and a few hellos from regulars. There's anEWin the photo's comments from Mauli. Someone replied to their commentYou better be joking,and Mauli backtracks in the replies withjust teasing my friends.

And, holy shit, there are like ten different thirst comments. I wonder if Dav even knows what an eggplant emoji is for. Andthen I wonder if Dav knows whatsextingis, and you know what, I am at work right now and this is not freaking appropriate.

My phone pings with a DM from Dike. It’s a copy of the photo, but with our hands pixelated out as if we're doing something x-rated.

This is too much, all at once.

I text my Mum a quickWill talk after work, and a middle finger emoji to my sister. Stuart hasn't weighed in yet, so I'm gonna assume it's only because he hasn't had the chance to check his phone in the middle of whatever job he’s at.

By the time we’re done with the afternoon rush, the pic has racked up more comments than any other post Hadi’s ever made, Dav has finished roasting two batches, baked two dozen scones, and ground enough espresso that each mason jar is packed, and Min-soo has decided she's making herself a latte. The day’s emotional rollercoastering has me worn down, and I ask if she'd mind making me one, too.

The latte she hands me is rich in a way I'm not used to, with the new flavor of the coffee, but it's tasty and frankly, I'm bushed, so I'm not ashamed to say I chug it. Min-soo and I are discussing what kind of provisions she'll need to prep for Hadi's opening shift tomorrow when the boss herself comes upstairs.

"Alright, if we've got it all under control now, kids, I'm gonna let Colin and Dav go. I'll stick around until seven, Min-soo, and you can close at nine like usual."

"Actually, I'd like to do one more round of each roast," Dav says, sticking his head out of the kitchen door. "So perhaps tomorrow won't be so much of a mad scramble. If that's alright with you, Colin?"

"Sure," I say. "I, uh, I think I'll go home and take a shower before we go out. Change into a shirt that's less, you know,mustardy."

Dav makes a noise I have decided to classify as a clicky-dragon-giggle. "Right. Also, I meant to tell you earlier, but there's mustard on your shirt."

"Gee, thanks, honeybun," I sneer with mock anger.

Dav’s face does something startled, and affectionate, and complicated at the silly pet-name.

"Aww," Min-soo coos.

"Eugh," Hadi teases. "If you guys are gonna get gross, keep it out of the café." I punch her arm playfully and she swats at me in retaliation, but I'm too light on my feet, too fucking delighted with the world, to get tapped back.

"Right, see you losers later. Lemmie take my mug to the back, and I'll be on my way."

"That's Min-soo's mug," Hadi says, when I grab it.

"Nah, it's mine."

"But that mug was a chocolate latte."

"Yeah," Min-soo says. "Colin asked me to make the same thing I was drinking."

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