“I can’t even imagine.”
I’ve never really spent any time with babies. None of my friends have any, and with me being only twenty-two, the thought of having babies hasn’t been on my radar.
“Good afternoon! Welcome to Lattes and Words. What can I make you?” the chipper woman behind the counter asks.
“I’ll have an iced pumpkin spice latte … and a blueberry muffin,” I say first.
“Really?” Brielle scoffs. “Pumpkin in the middle of the summer? That should be a crime. Am I right?” she asks the woman, who puts her hands up placatingly.
“Don’t bring me into this. It’s my job to stay unbiased.” She extends her hand. “I’m Nicole Vanderbilt,” she says. “Owner of Lattes and Words.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, shaking her hand. “This place is adorable.”
“Vanderbilt?” Brielle says. “As in …”
“Yes”—Nicole nods—“I’m Mayor Vanderbilt’s daughter.” Then, she leans in and whispers, “But I promise, my coffee and book options are way better than his political intentions.”
We all laugh, and I instantly like this woman. Which reminds me that I need to call my friends and check in. I spoke to them after Enrique died and gave them the PG version. They were worried and wanted to drive over, but I told them I was staying with a friendand didn’t have the room, promising once I got my shit together, we would do a girls’ day.
“I’ll have a blueberry refresher with coconut milk,” Brielle says, quirking her perfectly arched brow at me. “Arealsummer drink.”
I laugh and shrug. “PSL is my favorite regardless of the time of year.”
“Would you like anything to eat as well?” Nicole asks.
“Hmm …” Brielle eyes the selection. “A cranberry scone, please.”
“You got it.”
She rings us up, and I pay for both of us.
“My treat as a thank-you for taking pity on me and dropping whatever you were doing to go shopping with me.”
Brielle waves me off. “I wasn’t doing anything, if we’re being honest. The guy I’m currently dating, Theodore, is a bit of a workaholic, so I won’t see him until later tonight.” She shrugs.
“Matteo hasn’t mentioned you have a boyfriend. Is it new?”
“Yeah, Matteo met him on our first date and tried to scare him off, so I’ve been keeping it quiet, unsure where it’s going. And since I live with Dominick and Peyton, I always go over to his place.”
We take our pastries with us over to a table and have a seat while we wait for our drinks.
“Have you thought about getting your own place?” I ask, taking a bite of my muffin. It’s soft, and the flavor explodes in my mouth. “Or you could move in with Matteo,” I add. “He has several rooms.”
“And walk in on you two banging like bunnies every day?” She scrunches her nose up in disgust. “No thanks.”
“Well, now that Enrique is gone and I’m relatively safe”—I glance at the two guards standing a few feet away—“I need to start looking for my own place. So, if you want a roommate, let me know.”
“A roommate for what?” a masculine voice says, making me jump and nearly drop the piece of muffin I was about to pop into my mouth.
When I turn around, Matteo is standing next to my chair, looking at me with a mixture of annoyance and confusion.
“Hey!” I get out of my seat and wrap my arms around his neck, giving him a chaste kiss. “How did you know we were here?”
Brielle snorts out a laugh, and then I remember … the guards.
“Right,” I say, having a seat.
Matteo grabs a chair from another table and drags it over to ours. “I asked you a question,” he says to me. “A roommate for what?”
