Tyler watches me for a moment, then nods. “Okay. But if you need to talk, about whatever’s really going on, I’m here.”
“Nothing’s going on,” I insist, just as my phone buzzes with a Pike’s Perk notification: drink ready for pickup. My hand shoots out, snatching it up too fast, fingers tight around the device.
Trent and Tyler exchange a look. I pretend not to see it.
“Meeting in twenty,” Trent says, mercifully changing the subject. “Try to look like you care about the spring lineup.”
Once they’re gone, the notification stares up at me. I already had a cup this morning, no real need for another. But the idea of seeing Sadie again, of maybe cracking a real smile from behind her professional mask…
My chest tightens, a restless buzzing under my ribs. My knee starts bouncing, energy with nowhere to go. Fun Slade isn’t supposed to get wired over a woman pouring lattes.
I’m the guy people come to for a good time, not the guy who obsesses over some café owner like a goddamn stalker. But I can’t stop thinking about the way Sadie braces herself, guarded, like she’s daring someone to try her. Makes me want to be the one who gets under her skin, who finds out what it takes to make her fall apart.
Yet here I am.
Ordering coffee I don't need. Showing up at the same time every goddamn day like I'm punching a clock, except the only thing I'm clocking is whether she'll look at me for longer than two seconds before she remembers she doesn't want to. Ishouldn’t care less, but every time she hands a cup to someone else, my jaw tightens. I want her attention on me—her eyes, her smile, all of it mine. Doesn’t matter that I’m a stranger. I want to be the only one she notices. Anyone else getting her smile feels like a personal offense.
I don’t get rattled by women. Ever. But every time I think about her, it’s like something sharp’s working under my skin. I’m not proud of how much control I’ve lost. Never let anyone see it. If the guys saw me like this, they’d never let me live it down. So I keep it locked up tight, the want, need and frustration—all of it hidden where nobody can see. I don't lie awake running through a thirty-second interaction like there's something in it I missed.
Except apparently I do all of those things now. Apparently my whole personality just quietly took a hard left turn and didn't bother to tell me.
It pisses me off how much I want to break through those walls like it’s a fucking challenge, and I’ve never walked away from one of those in my life. She’s got barriers stacked to the ceiling, a kid on her hip, and still I want her looking at me, thinking about me, coming undone for me. Her signals scream “keep out,” but all I hear is “work harder.” I'm choosing to find it interesting instead of discouraging, which probably says something unflattering about me.
To see if I can read past that armor. To see if there’s even a chance she might look right at me and find something worth her time.
My head drops into my hands, palms pressing into my eyes until stars spark there. The air feels thick, sticky in my lungs. This is supposed to be simple. Easy breezy family-business Axel, not this keyed-up idiot timing his morning around a stranger’s half smile.
The plan was simple: help with the family business, have fun, keep it light.
There’s nothing light about the way my pulse spikes every time her name crosses my mind, and I have zero clue what the hell to do with that.
I yank my jacket from the back of my chair and head for the door. I’m nearly out when Tyler’s voice stops me.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Pivoting with as much nonchalance as I can fake, I shrug. “Just stepping out for a bit. Got an errand.”
Tyler arches an eyebrow. “An errand? Since when do you run errands mid–workday?”
“Since I graduated to responsible adulthood,” I reply, patting my pockets for keys. “And since I need a cup that doesn’t taste like Trent’s last-minute brew.”
“You literally just had coffee,” Tyler points out, folding his arms. “And we’ve got a meeting in fifteen.”
“I’ll be back,” I promise. “Just need fresh air. The creative process, you know? Can’t rush genius.”
Trent rounds the corner, perfect timing, of course. “Genius, huh? Who are we talking about?”
Tyler jabs a thumb at me. “Axel’s ditching content prep for an ‘errand.’”
Trent’s grin spreads. “An errand at a certain café, by any chance?”
A hot prickle climbs the side of my neck, heat pooling at my collar. “I have zero clue what you mean,” I lie.
Tyler leans in. “Dude, you’re blushing. Since when do you blush?”
“It’s the lights,” I snap, dragging a hand over my jaw. “You two keep talking and the place heats up with bullshit.” My patience is short, and I don’t bother hiding it. Let them push. I’malready thinking about other things—her, the curve of her mouth when she’s trying not to smile.
Trent laughs. “He’s got it bad. Look at him, hands twitching, leg bouncing.”
