“Still stuck in there,” Zen says hoarsely.
“Maybe it’s actually residual cheese dust.”
There’s another round of everyone sucking in a breath while they dart glances between me and Sabrina and her mom sits there sipping her own coffee like she’s completely innocent and didn’t remind everyone of the cheese dust on purpose.
“Oh, god, I didn’t mean you should do speed dating,” one of the women says. “Right. Right. You and Sabrina—”
“Are not dating,” Sabrina says lightly. “I don’t date.”
“That’s what your mom said before she got pregnant with you,” the oldest woman in the room whispers.
And I’m out.
Outout.
Retreating to the kitchen because I know when I’m in over my head, and it doesn’t matter what Sabrina’s mom says to that.
I have to leave.
The voices continue in the dining room.
There’s laughter. Conversation. Excitement. The clink of coffee cups on the tables.
And Zen’s in the middle of it.
Like they belong.
I haveneverseen Zen adjust to a place like this. Even when we were in San Diego after I kicked Felicia out, when it was just the two of us, they didn’t like accompanying me for anything to do with work.
Your researcher friends treat me like a specimen, they told me once.Maybe it’s in my head, but I don’t like it.
Here?
Here, they’re joining in like they belong. Finding agymnastics class, for fuck’s sake. If I tell them I could’ve warned them aboutMrs. Pineapple’s lavender muffins, they’ll laugh their ass off and then some, and probably serve me iced coffee in my chai mug tomorrow for revenge, and we’ll be even.
It makes me want to bail right now. Put the café up for sale. Just give it to Sabrina.
Get them out of here.
Before they get hurt.
I angle a glance inside the room and catch Sabrina watching the kitchen door.
She looks away immediately, reaching for her mug as she says something to the woman beside her.
I flush hot, then cold, then hot again, and then I go lightheaded.
Dammit.
Idon’twant to leave.
Even knowing this infatuation has to eventually come to an end, that I have to trust the people in this community to accept Zen and me for who we are, that I’ll eventually crave research again in a way that won’t be satisfied by running a kombucha bar with a bee theme and live beehives, I don’t want to leave.
And that’s scarier than hell.
20
Sabrina
