My phone buzzes in my pocket. Again. My chest cinches tight.
Rowan’s eyes track the color draining from my face. “You okay? You look ready to bolt.”
I shove the phone deeper. “Just spam.” The words come out thin and brittle. “Can you tackle the pastry display? Saul’s behind.”
She stills, hand hovering over the pastry case. “Third time this week you’ve flinched at a buzz, Sadie.”
Another buzz vibrates against my leg. With a quick glance at the screen, I know it’s from an Oregon area code. My pulse kicks hard, a dull pounding in my ears.
Rowan’s gaze sharpens, catching every twitch, every swallowed breath.
“It’s nothing.” I scrub the counter harder than it deserves, the rag squeaking against the steel. “Robocalls. Café chaos.”
She folds her arms, shoulder pressed to the fridge door. “You’d tell me if it was serious, right?”
“I would.” The smile I slap on feels like it might crack off my face.
The front door chimes. First customer of the morning.
“We’re open,” I call, already moving toward the register, grateful for the distraction. “I’ll ring up while you finish the pastry case?”
Rowan hesitates, then nods slowly. “This isn’t over,” she murmurs.
My phone sinks deeper into my pocket, out of reach of any court clerk or ominous notice, at least for now. Orders start lining up on the screen. One task at a time. One hour at a time. Whatever’s waiting in Oregon can wait a little longer.
By the time the morning rush hits, the café is packed with regulars, and the order chime dings in rhythm with the hiss of the espresso machine. This is my lane: pour, steam, cap, call out. My hands move on autopilot.
“Three-shot Americano for Doug,” I say, sliding the cup across. “Extra room.”
Doug tips his hat. “Lifesaver, Sadie.”
The tablet pings again. Mobile pickup: Axel Slade. My fingers stall mid-swipe.
Axel Slade.
Just reading his name, my body reacts with heat low in my belly, a flush creeping up my neck.
I can still feel where his arm crowded my space last time, skin prickling like he’d left a mark. The way he looked at me, hungry and wanton, like he already knew what I tasted like, left me off-balance. He’d leaned in close, not enough to touch, but enough that my breath hitched. Then, that wink, cocky, like he was daring me to look away first.
I hated how much I liked it. The kind of man who doesn’t just take up space but leaves you wondering how it would feel to let him claim all of it. And all of me.
A very specific image of his forearm on my pickup counter from two days ago floods my brain. The memory of how he'd leaned in just far enough to be in my space without quite crossing it, like he was testing a boundary he'd set for himself. The smell of him. And then… that little wink he gave me when he noticed me staring. I'd turned away faster than I needed to and pretended to wipe down the steam wand.
He'd said thank you the way people don't anymore. It was unhurried and felt genuine, looking right at me instead of at his phone. Like I was a person he was actually speaking to.
I'd hated him a little for that because of this exact reason. I knew that image would haunt me again and make me blush.
My throat goes tight now, heat pricking along the back of my neck the same way it had then. This is the part I hate most, that my body clocks him before my brain has a chance to intervene. That some dumb, cellular part of me has cataloged the exact green of his eyes and filed it somewhere I can't seem to delete.
I try to push him out of my mind. There’s too much to juggle, too much at stake. But the memory of his voice, low and rough, lingers. The way he watched my hands, the heat in his gaze. I can still feel it, like a fingerprint pressed low on my spine. I tellmyself it’s nothing, that I don’t have time for this, but my body doesn’t listen. It never does when he’s around.
He’s off-limits. I’m off-limits.
I tap Accept too hard. Except my hands don't get the message. There's still a hum running just under my sternum, low and irritating, the kind that doesn't switch off just because I've told it to. I know what it is. I'm not an idiot. I just have exactly zero use for it.
I reach for the next order and will my nervous system to stand down.
It doesn't.
