I swallow hard. “What if they don’t? What if they hate it? What if no one shows up? I mean, I don’t even have an espresso machine yet. What if someone wants an espresso?”
“Woah, slow down, cowgirl,” Harlow interrupts, holding up a hand. “Deep breaths, please. You are going to do great! You’ve worked your ass off for this. Not to mention you’re more than prepared.”
My weak smile doesn’t stop the knot in my stomach from tightening.I’m ready, I tell myself. I’ve been preparing for months, and the big day is coming soon.
But it is not today. It’s okay to make mistakes today.
“Thanks, Har,” I mumble. “I just don’t know if I’m ready.”
Harlow gives me a pointed look. “You’re ready. You have been since high school. Now go check on those muffins you promised Old Man Harris.”
I nod, but before I can take another step, there’s a knock at the door.
I freeze. Who could that be? No one should be here. We don’t open for another thirty minutes.
“Uh, Mills, are you expecting anyone?” Harlow asks, glancing over to the door with a raised eyebrow.
“No,” I reply, frowning. “Maybe it’s just a curious early bird. Can you go to the back and get more pastries? I can get this.”
I walk over to the door, my shoes tapping lightly against the wooden floor. I reach for the handle, and just as I pull it open, I slam right into a wall of muscle.
I look up, dazed, and stare into the most enchanting caramel-brown eyes I’ve ever seen. His face is serious but handsome—sharp jawline, dark hair slightly tousled. Only then do I notice the uniform. A cop?
“Hey there, Bumper,” the man says.
XoXo, Millie
GABRIEL
What the hellis wrong with me? Seriously.Bumper?Did I just call her that? What am I, 12? Maybe I was unprepared by how beautiful she was. Or maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the fact I hadn’t had a proper coffee in hours. Either way, I couldn’t take it back now.
She’s fumbling with her words, clearly trying to save the moment. “Excuse me?” Her voice cracks a little, and I can tell she’s flustered.
But my frustration bubbles over. I snap before I think. “You just slammed into me. Pretty sure that makes you a Bumper. Watch where you’re going.”
Shit.
That was harsh. Way too harsh. Not the best first impression, but I will not lose sleep over it. I mean, she’s just a girl at the café. It’s not like I’m going to see her again, right?
The look on her face shifts—first confusion, then a flash of anger. She pulls herself together quickly, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“You’re right, my bad. Your orders are on the house, so what can I get you?”
I’m still feeling the tension from our awkward interaction, but I walk in and try to shake it off. I know I probably made her feel bad, but honestly, I don’t have the emotional energy to care about making it right. Not right now at least.
She’s behind the counter now, waiting for my order, and I can feel the air between us still thick with unspoken words. I want to apologize, but I don’t. I’m tired, grumpy, and running on fumes. A smile would just feel fake right now.
“That’s thoughtful, Bumper. But no thanks,” I say, my tone sharper than I mean it to be. God, why can’t I just keep it together for five minutes?
Her eyes flicker, but she just nods and turns to make the drinks. “Okay, what would you like then?” She sounds a little more distant now, and I can’t say I blame her.
“One black coffee and one caramel coffee. Thanks.” I mutter, trying to keep the conversation to a minimum. I don’t want to drag this out.
She nods again, more distant this time, and I can feel the awkwardness hanging in the air like a paperweight. I’m not exactly making this a pleasant experience for either of us.
She works, making the drinks, and the tension between us fades as I zone out, focusing on the smell of coffee and the quiet hum of the empty café. This is what I need right now—a moment of normalcy. A break from everything else that’s been eating at me.
“Would you like a drink carrier?” She calls over her shoulder, her voice a little too bright for my liking.
