Declan
I fucked up. We all know this.
And that hug from Autumn solidified that fact. I don’t want Penny to avoid me anymore. I want my friend back. And she has another thing coming if she thinks I’m not going to fight for her and Autumn’s friendship.
This shit ends right here.
Or starts, depending on how you want to look at it.
~ ~ ~
Penny
Monday mornings are our busiest time at the coffee shop. Everyone wants that caffeine hit to get through the first day of the week.
Sage is at the register, handing me cup after cup, and I make every drink as fast as I can through the morning rush.
When it dies down around ten, my dad comes into the shop. “Hey, Pen. How’d it go this morning?”
“Would have been better if you showed up two hours ago,” I joke. “But we handled it. What are you doing in here?”
“I was hoping you could go over and talk to Declan for me. I want to figure out a rewards plan that could benefit both shops.”
I blink at him. “Um. Can’t you do that?”
“No can do. I have some numbers to crunch and want you to do it.”
I want to groan, and I would if we weren’t in the shop, but I try to treat my mom and dad like I would real bosses.
“Sure,” I tell him, even though every cell in my body wants to say no.
“You should go over there now. He was sitting behind the reception desk when I walked by.” He smiles and heads to the office, leaving me staring after him.
I feel like he could have done this himself, but for some reason, he pawned the task off on me.
Reluctantly, I hang up my apron and smooth away the wrinkles on my black, wide-legged linen pants. I check to make sure I don’t have any weird stains on my white, cropped band T-shirt and slowly make my way next door.
My steps are slow because I really don’t want to see Declan, but this is business, and I need to put away my pride for the sake of the coffee shop.
I still don’t know if I want to forgive Declan, but my bleeding heart thinks I should. Sometimes I hate being a nice person. I wish I could be one of those people who don’t give a shit about anything, but that’s not me. I blame my mom for this trait.
Declan’s head is down as I catch sight of him through the window of the shop. His tattooed fingers run through his hair as he stares at something behind the reception desk, and my damn heart skips a beat at the action.
Why does he have to be so good-looking?
I shake off the thought and school my features as I enter Blank Canvas Ink. His head whips towards me, and his yellow-green eyes penetrate my gaze.
I look behind him so I don’t have to look at him, and a familiar set of eyes catches mine. “Well, look who it is. Damngirl, you were a knockout before, but the short hair makes you look like sex incarnate,” Becca says from her station.
I let out a laugh. “Hi, Becca.”
She comes out from behind her station and meets me where I stand. “I’m going to hug you, and it’s not because I want to feel you up. Unless you want me to.” She wraps her arms around my neck, and I return the hug. When she pulls away, she plants a kiss on my cheek and says, “If my woman would let us open the relationship, you would be our number one pick. You look good, mama.”
I feel myself blush and, from the corner of my eye, peek at Declan. He’s staring at where Becca’s hands are on my biceps, and I can’t make out the expression on his face.
Is he mad?
“Thanks. I had the urge to cut it after Christmas,” I tell her. The day after Christmas, my impulse control was lacking, and I took the scissors to my hair. I had to have Jordan come over right after because I knew I had made a mistake. She evened the cut out, and now that I’ve had it for a few weeks, it’s grown on me.
