“Exactly!” She says, punctuating my silence. “Ask Lexie out again.”
“I’m planning to.”
“Yay!” She claps her hands. “That’s so cute.”
“Don’t you have some work to do?” I say, finishing off Lexie’s drink.
“My work here is to make sure you don’t screw up with the first woman you’ve been interested in since I’ve been home from college. Oh, pair that with an almond croissant,” she says, getting one from the case. “And get a pic of that latte art for social media.”
“Good thinking. That’s why I need you here.”
“Don’t start.” She rolls her eyes.
Asking her to stay in Bayside and run the café with me has become a touchy subject between us. I let it go for now and fixa coffee for myself. Sophia waves me off, reminding me to be myself, like I’m a dating novice who needs tutoring.
Lexie’s sitting at a table near the fire, fiddling with the sugar packets. I set the croissant and coffee down, noticing that she had neatly organized the sweeteners.
“Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.”
She’s removed her scarf and coat, revealing a midnight-blue sweater slightly darker than her eyes. Today, her wavy hair is pulled back in a ponytail that shows off her stunning face and the soft curve of her neck. Two tiny moles sit below her jawline, separated by an inch of smooth skin. I wouldn’t mind using my tongue to play connect-the-dots.
Jesus. Don’t think about licking her neck.
Lexie’s face splits into the widest of smiles when she sees her latte. “A camera!” she exclaims. “How did you get all those details?”
“Edible markers,” I reply, grabbing a seat across from her. “They dry fast and offer more versatility than foam art.”
“Clever. Do you use stencils as well?”
“Never. That feels like cheating.”
“A true artist,” she smiles, her nerves ebbing. “So, what’s this new drink?”
“Taste it and see if you can guess.”
“First, I have to get a photo.” Lexie takes out her phone and positions the cup at the angle she wants before she snaps several shots. “I wish I had my camera, but it still came out really well.” She turns her phone toward me, scrolling through the pics.
“Can you send those to me so I can post them?”
“Sure.” My phone pings, telling me she’d sent them.
“Thanks. I’ll tag you. What’s your handle?” I tried to look her up last night but didn’t find her anywhere on social media.
“I don’t have a personal account. I enjoy some of what social media has to offer, but I’d rather scroll than post, so don’t worry about tagging me.”
That’s unusual but in a good way. I’d met some women on dating apps who were selfie fanatics. It’s refreshing that Lexie’s a private person and not into that.
“I’m dying to try this,” she says, distracting my thoughts by bringing the mug to her unpainted mouth for a sip.
“What do you taste?” I ask.
“Hmm. Notes of caramel and chocolate. There’s something else.” She tastes it again and licks her lips. “A cookie, maybe?”
“You have a good palate. I went with chocolate since you liked the mocha and added caramel sauce and Biscoff syrup. How is it?”
“Perfect. Chocolate’s my vice, anything sweet, really. I ate an entire pint of chocolate brownie ice cream last night while binge-watchingSex in the City.”
