She studies me, then nods and takes the register. Relief surges like a wave. No more questions, no more looks. Only the clink of cups and the hiss of steam.
Still, every time the front door swings open, my ribs cinch tight. Every shadow makes me think it’s him.
I’m furious at myself for the hope, for the craving. I’m terrified of what I want, and yet I can’t stop waiting for Axel to walk in.
Chapter 10
Axel
I’m squinting at the spreadsheet on my screen, the quarterly projections for the brewery blending into a gray haze. My third cup of coffee, now lukewarm, perches forlorn beside the keyboard. I’ve been camped at this desk since seven, faking focus on margins and forecasts, but everything keeps snapping back to last night. To Sadie. I can still feel her weight in my arms, the way she fit so small against my chest, like she could slip through my fingers. Her body had trembled with those raw, guttural sobs, like she’d been holding it together so long it just shattered. My hands still remember her. I wanted to tuck her under my chin, shield her from everything, but some part of me wanted to sink my hands into her hair and make her forget every single thing but me. My jaw clenches. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this, not after the way she sobbed, but I can’t stop. My body sure as hell doesn’t care what’s appropriate.
“Hey, Earth to Axel.”
Decker’s leaning in my doorway, arms crossed, half-amused.
I blink and force my shoulders down. “What’s up?”
“I’ve been talking to the wall for like thirty seconds.” He nods at my screen. “Marketing sent the summer IPA label mock-ups. They want your stamp by noon.”
“Right, labels.” I shuffle through vendor contracts until I unearth the designs. “I was just focused on the numbers.”
“Sure you were,” he says, sliding into the chair opposite me. “You’ve stared at that spreadsheet for an hour. Something’s off.”
I tap a pretend study face. “Quarterly projections are riveting.”
He cranes forward. “This about a certain café owner?”
My collar suddenly feels way too tight.
“No idea.”
“Then explain checking your phone seventeen times in the last hour.”
My phone sits screen up, blank. I lift it anyway. “Vendor ping.” I flip through the designs. “I like the blue one.”
“Vendor ping from Pike’s Perk?” Decker raises an eyebrow.
I glare. “Got any actual work? Brew some beer.”
He laughs. “This is better. Spill. What happened last night? You’ve been off since you showed up.”
“Nothing. Open mic, played guitar, people clapped. End of story.”
His teasing grin fades. “Seriously, Ax. You’re weird today.”
I sigh and set the designs aside. “She was upset. I don’t know why. But she looked… scared. Like something really freaked her out.”
“Of what?”
I rub my jaw. “She wouldn’t say. But it wasn’t just sadness, there was fear.”
“And you feel responsible because…?”
“I don’t,” I blurt, then swallow. “I’m just… concerned. As a friend. Or whatever we are.”
Decker studies me. “A friend,” he echoes, unconvinced.
“Yeah, friend,” I insist, turning back to the screen.
