Ellie
Sawyer heldthe door to Woodstone Perks open, and I stepped inside. God, the smell alone brought a smile to my lips—rich espresso mixed with something that reminded me of my late grandmother's kitchen. The murmurs of conversation and the soft clink of ceramic felt like the first real breath I'd taken in months.
I took in the exposed brick walls, the mismatched furniture that actually looked lived-in instead of staged, and shelves packed with well-worn books. “This place is?—”
“Ellie Miles.”
The voice came from behind the counter, and I turned to see a man watching me with an easy smile. He had warm brown skin and a smile that made you want to immediately trust him with your secrets.
“Thomas,” Sawyer said, grinning. “Try not to scare her off in the first thirty seconds.”
“I’m not scary!” Thomas immediately proved himself wrong by practically bouncing on his toes. “Oh my God, you're actually here. In our coffee shop. Aiden's going to lose his mind.”
As if summoned, another man emerged from behind the espresso machine—tall, pale, with sharp blue eyes. He took one look at me, blinked hard, and looked again. “You've got to be kidding me.”
“Aiden,” Thomas said in a singsong voice, “it’s Ellie Miles.”
“I can see that.” Aiden wiped his hands on his apron, shaking his head. “Someone please tell me this is actually happening.”
I couldn't help but laugh. “Hi, I’m Ellie.”
“Nice to meet you. This is Aiden, and I’m Thomas—the better half, obviously.” Thomas pointed to himself with both thumbs. “At your service.”
“Hey.” Aiden scoffed. “I make the coffee. You just look pretty and take people's money.”
“And I'm very good at both, thank you.”
Thomas turned back to Sawyer, his eyes narrowing. “Wait. How exactly do you know Ellie Miles? Last I checked, your idea of entertainment was arguing about whether pineapple belongs on pizza.”
“It absolutely doesn’t,” Sawyer said.
“See?” Thomas gestured at him like he'd proved his point.
Sawyer glanced at me, a question in his eyes.
When I nodded, he broke into that slow smile that had been doing dangerous things to my pulse all day. “Well, funny story. She's my girlfriend.”
The silence that followed was so complete that I could hear the espresso machine hissing in the background.
“I’m sorry,” Aiden said slowly, “did you just say?—”
“Girlfriend.” Sawyer slid his arm around my waist with an ease that shouldn't have felt as natural as it did. “Story's probably breaking as we speak.”
Thomas grabbed Aiden's arm. “Are you seeing this? Am I having a stroke?”
“We're both having a stroke,” Aiden said.
I buried my face in my hands, laughing despite myself.
Thomas slapped the counter. “Okay, first of all, congratulations. Second of all, how? When? Why didn't you lead with this information?”
“Because," Sawyer said, steering me toward the counter, “we'd like coffee before the interrogation begins.”
“Fair point.” Thomas was already moving. “The usual for you, and what can I get for the literal pop star dating our favorite customer?”
“Anything extra sweet,” I said.
After we ordered, we found a table in the back corner. My shoulders immediately relaxed for the first time all day.
