“Woah there, doc, you gotta watch where you’re going.” Miles chuckles as he holds tight to my arms to steady me. The size difference between us causes me to nearly bounce off of him before he catches me.
Fixing my glasses, I look up at him with a shy smile. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect you to be coming in at the same time I was heading out.” My hands are braced on his arms after colliding with him and I can feel his forearms flex as we stand holding one another.
“I guess you could say I was a little eager about our session today. The station was slow so I came over a few minutes early. I hope that’s okay,” he hums, looking down at me. His lips are pulled back into a smirk and the closeness of him allows me to be inundated with the smell of his aftershave.
“That’s totally fine,” I manage to get out before the scent of him becomes too much. Clearing my throat, I drop his arms and take a step back. “I’m going to go make myself a cup of coffee, would you like one?”
He looks in the direction I’m pointing at before looking back at me. “Nah, I’m okay. Is it okay if I walk with you?”
No, no it is not. I need you to not be close so I can fully exhale and get myself in check before I have forty-five minutes of alone time with you.
“Sure,” I squeak out. My eyes clench together after I step around him and he can no longer see my face. I listen to the sound of his footsteps behind me as we move towards the kitchen and try to settle my heart rate as we walk.
“You sure you don’t want some?” I ask over my shoulder, reaching up for a coffee mug. Beingsomewhat vertically challenged, I have to lift up on tiptoes to reach the mugs. Stepping up behind me, his chest presses into my back as he reaches over me to grab the mug.
“I’m sure,” he says, handing me the cup. He hasn’t taken a step away from me meaning we’re very close together in a very tiny kitchenette. I turn around to take the mug he’s offering me and am trapped between him and the counter. I feel my cheeks flush as my back presses more and more into the countertop as I try to make space between us.
“You know, the machine is that way. You kind of have me blocked in,” I note, glancing down at his hand which is resting against the countertop, boxing me in.
“But if I move then you’ll run away and I won’t get to be close to you.” He tips his head to one side and leans in a fraction of an inch.
I bite down hard on my molars trying to maintain a neutral expression. “We won’t be able to start your session on time if you keep me here.”
“That’s fine with me. I’d much rather do this than talk about my feelings anyway.”
“Miles.” I lean into his name and raise a brow at him.
After a beat, he raises his hands in defeat and lets me out. I push out a slow, steadying breath as I try to focus on making myself my coffee instead of the wave of energy buzzing around inside of me.
“How do you like your coffee?” he asks as he leans against the counter.
“Preferably made in a coffee shop but when I’m here, I make do with what I have.”
“What’s your order?”
I pause before dropping a coffee pod into the machine and turning around to look at him skeptically.
“What? Am I not allowed to know your coffee order? Is that some sort of ethical violation?” he asks as he shrugs his shoulders.
“No, it’s not,” I answer slowly. I finish setting up the machine to make me a cup and push start before turning to look at him. “I like to get a honey vanilla latte, iced, with almond milk.”
“Is almond milk a requirement?” He tips a brow at me. The coffee machine starts to spit and bubble as it makes my drink.
“It is for me. Normal milk does things to my insides no human wants to happen to them.” He laughs at my honesty which makes me smile.
I quickly pour some creamer into the mug once the machine is done to make it drinkable. Black coffee, while for some people, is not for me. I reach to take the mug back to my office but before I can grab it, his hand is around the ceramic vessel and is lifting it from the counter.
“I can carry that,” I say hastily, trying to take it from him but he deflects my grab and spins away from me.
“No, let me. It’s hot and if you spill it, you’ll burn yourself.”
“Miles, I’ve carried hot coffee down the hallway plenty of times before without burning myself, I think I can handle it.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t here to help you before. Now I am, so stop arguing and let’s go. You have head shrinking to do.”
Before I can try and snatch the cup back, he’s heading back down the hallway for my office.
“You know, I don’t really like it when people call it ‘shrinking,’” I call out before I hurry down after him. I hustle for the door to my office space and open it for him so he can go inside. Once we reach the room we meet in forsessions, he carefully places the mug down on my desk and looks at me with another smile that makes my breath catch in my throat.
