Another cup. My fingers feel clumsy now. I almost slosh coffee over the rim.
He turns it.
Loved
My breath catches hard enough that I have to lean against the counter.
“Oh my God,” someone murmurs.
I shake my head. “Dax, stop.”
He doesn’t.
Another cup.
You
The shop has gone silent. Even the espresso machine seems to know better than to hiss right now.
My heart is pounding so loud I swear the speakers will pick it up.
I whisper, “Dax.”
He steps closer. Not enough to touch. Just enough that I feel the heat of him. The certainty.
“Another,” he says.
I grab a cup without looking. Pour. Slide it across.
Forever
“One more,” he orders.
He takes the empty cup from my hands.
But he doesn’t write anything this time.
He just reaches into his jacket pocket and gently drops something inside.
Then he pushes the cup toward me.
I stare down.
Nestled at the bottom, catching the light like it was meant to live there, is a ring.
For a split second, the world tilts.
Then my hand flies to my mouth and I make a sound that is half laugh, half sob.
Someone gasps. Loud.
I drop the carton of coconut milk I’ve been holding. It hits the floor and explodes, white splashing everywhere. I don’t even care.
The song crescendos.You are the best thing…
Dax’s voice cuts through everything. Low. Steady.
“I got tired of waiting for the right moment,” he says. “Turns out it was every morning at this counter.”
