Cooper read the message from behind the counter and shot me a grateful look. I held his gaze for a moment and tried to communicate without words that I meant it. I’d be there for him in whatever capacity he needed, even if it meant sitting through an awkward dinner with his disapproving parents.
Because that’s what you did when you loved someone: you showed up, even when it was hard. Even when they didn’t love you back the same way. Even when friendship was all you’d ever have.
Outside the tall windows, Seacliff Cove’s main street bustled with Monday morning activity. The town had welcomed me easily, folding me into its rhythms as if I’d always belonged here. My apartment above the bookstore next door had slowly transformed from a temporary landing place to something that felt like home.
I took a last sip of the exceptional coffee and returned the mug to the counter. Cyber threats wouldn’t fix themselves, and I had clients depending on me.
But even as I left, part of me remained hyperaware of Cooper moving through his domain, creating moments of connection over cups of coffee, one person at a time. And I wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like if he ever looked at me and saw more than just his best friend from college.
Maybe someday I’d gather enough courage to find out. But for now, I stayed in my safe corner, loving him silently from the distance of a coffee shop table, collecting small moments,knowing they’d never add up to what I really wanted but treasuring them all the same.
CHAPTER TWO
Cooper
“That’s the last of the dishes,” Aaron called. Soft beeps echoed through the kitchen as he pressed buttons on the dishwasher’s control panel. The teenager had been working at The Coffee Cove after school for nearly six months, and I appreciated his efficiency.
I gave the pastry case one final inspection to ensure it was spotless. “Thanks. I’ll finish up here if you want to head out.”
“You sure?” He emerged from the kitchen and glanced at the clock. “It’s getting late.”
“I’m sure.” I flashed him what I hoped was a reassuring smile.
The truth was, after the POS system fiasco that morning, I needed some quiet time to think. Jack had gotten it working again, but his concerned expression had left me uneasy. The upcoming dinner with my family only added to my anxiety.
“See you tomorrow, then.” Aaron grabbed his backpack from beneath the counter.
Once he was gone, I locked the door behind him. The evening hush of The Coffee Cove settled around me: no hissing espressomachine, no chatter of customers, just the low hum of the refrigerators and the occasional creak of the old building.
I wiped down the counters one more time, more out of habit than necessity. The shop was immaculate—I made sure of that—but the repetitive motion helped calm my nerves. The morning rush, the system crash, Ryan’s visit…it had been quite a day.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.Jack.
On my way. Burritos + chips + salsa in hand. ETA 10 min.
I smiled at his text. Somehow, Jack always knew when I needed food. I texted back a quick thumbs-up emoji and went to the back office to pull out the financial paperwork I’d been avoiding all weekend.
The numbers were daunting. While The Coffee Cove was doing well, the loan I’d taken out to buy the place from my former boss loomed large. Every unexpected expense—like repairs to a POS system—made my stomach knot with apprehension.
A sharp knock at the front door pulled me from my intimidating calculations. Jack stood outside, a brown paper takeout bag in one hand, two craft beers hooked in the other, and a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. His honey-brown hair was windblown, and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled through the glass. Whenever Jack flashed that familiar crooked grin of his—the one where the left corner of his mouth lifted just a bit higher than the right—something warm unfurled in my chest. It was my best friend’s smile, familiar and comforting, with its perfect imperfection that had become more dear to me over the years than any carefully practiced smile.
I unlocked the door. “Perfect timing. I was just about to start stress-eating the leftover biscotti.”
“Tempting, but I thought you deserved better.” Jack stepped inside, and instantly, the warm, spicy aroma of grilled meat, cumin, and slow-roasted salsa filled the shop. “Besides, that biscotti is basically drywall.”
“Hey! Some people like a good crunch.” I relocked the door behind him.
“I got you the chicken burrito—no cheese, extra guac. Plus, chips and this smoky chipotle salsa that made me rethink my whole life.”
I laughed, even as my stomach growled at the scent. “You’re a dangerous man, Anderson.”
“Only to good food and unsecured networks.” He set the bag and beers on the table, and I grabbed plates and napkins from behind the counter, along with a bottle opener for the beers.
We unwrapped our food, and the mingled scents of seasoned rice, lime, and roasted chilis wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I sat and took a bite, the citrusy tang of guacamole giving way to savory grilled chicken and just a hint of heat from the salsa. The crunch of chips followed by the smoky richness of tomato and charred pepper hit all the right notes. Comfort food, wrapped in foil.
Jack dug into his carnitas burrito with the enthusiasm of a man who hadn’t eaten since breakfast. “God, this place is a hidden gem. The pork’s perfectly tender, like it spent the day sleeping in a slow cooker.”
We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. Outside, the streetlights cast a golden glow through the front windows. A few pedestrians hurried past, collars turned up against the evening chill.
