Page 28 of A Boy Is a Gun: Part II
Five
Taylor
The lunch crowd hadthinned out, leaving the shop humming with low conversations, the hiss of the espresso machine, and the clink of ceramic mugs.I was wiping down the bar, half-distracted by the playlist Hayley put on—some sultry lo-fi jazz number that made everything feel a little too cinematic.
That’s when the door chimed, and Jiro walked in.Tall.Calm.Sins carved into his forearms.
The sleeves of his black tee couldn’t hide the intricate tattoos crawling over his skin—snakes, koi, maybe a dragon tail disappearing up past the fabric.His hair was long, pulled back into a low, messy tie, and he wore glasses that looked like they belonged to a software engineer, not a man who probably rode a Ducati and knew how to hotwire a Tesla.
“Customer or vampire lord?”Hayley muttered beside me.“Because either way, I want the novella.”
I ignored her.Barely.
He scanned the menu like he didn’t need it, then looked right at me.“I told you I would come visit your shop,” he said, voice low and even.“I’ve been here before, and I just didn’t realize you were the owner.”
I blinked.Great.Just what I needed—temptation with tattoos and cheekbones.“Maybe we’ve met before and didn’t realize it.”
He smiled.And damn, he had a smile that should’ve been illegal.“Maybe.”
“You walk in here looking like you code malware in the dark but also run underground fight clubs for fun.”I checked him.
His grin stretched wider.“Who says I don’t?”
Hayley, pretending to refill napkin dispensers but very much in earshot, practically giggled.Shegiggled.I sent her a warning glare, which she ignored.“What can I get you?”I asked, trying to sound unaffected.
“Whatever you recommend,” he said as he perused the menu.“I want something iced and strong.What’s in the Nicki Minaj?”
“It’s an iced spicy, matcha espresso,” I said.“Unpredictable like her.”
“It’s also fucking crazy and past its prime like her!”Hayley adds in.
My embarrassment reaches past my cheeks and slaps me.“So, there’s that.”
He raises an eyebrow, then smiles.“It sounds interesting enough.I’ll take one.”He glances into the pastry case and purses his lips — and my brain immediately takes the wrong kind of field trip.“And one of the biscuits with peach jam, please.I also have a special request, if you can serve it to me?”
My hand pauses on the espresso handle.Hayley and I exchange a look.“Oh?”
“I mean,” he adds quickly, “you don’t have to.I just thought it’d be a way we could chat for a bit.”
“Oh.”I try not to show my disappointment.I mean, duh — he’s at my place of business, I serve coffee.Why am I reading into this?“Sure.”
Hayley makes a strangled noise behind the pastry case.I’m going to murder her later.
