Heat crawls up my neck. “I’m fine. Really. I’m so sorry about earlier, that was?—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” he says, easy, not dismissive. “It happens.”
I don’t believe him, but I appreciate the mercy.
“I didn’t mean to cause… a scene,” I say, already reaching for a cup, because apparently, I’d rather hide behind coffee than my own dignity.
I gesture down to his bandaged knuckles. “Are you ok?”
He nods. “Yeah, it’s nothing.”
We both pause.
“Can I get you something?”
A beat.
Then a small, genuine smile. “Coffee would be great.”
“Coming right up.”
I turn toward the machine before he can see my face.
Next to me, Ashton’s jaw drops open like a cartoon character.
I elbow her sharply. She just keeps staring. "Any day," she whispers, then flinches, clearly horrified at herself immediately after.
Nathan’s brows twitch upward slightly.
I pass him the coffee, sliding the cup into his hand, and for one brief second, his fingers brush mine. It’s like touching a live wire. Not painful. Just...sharp. Real.
He watches me for a moment. Not smiling but softer, somehow.
“Thank you,” he says, voice like gravel wrapped in velvet.
He turns, walking out, the bell jingling at his departure.
I practically collapse against the counter when the door closes behind him.
Ashton lets out a low, appreciative whistle. “So…that’s him?”
“Yup.”
She pats me on the head. “I’ll pray for you.”
Closing time, finally. It’s one of those nights where the air feels soft instead of heavy, the kind that makes you want to walk instead of calling an Uber. Ashton helps me rally together all the leftover food from the bakery—muffins, croissants, a couple of bagels—and I stuff them into a brown paper bag before we head out into the sun-soaked streets.
“Hang on,” I tell her, lifting the bag. “I just wanna drop this off to a guy who usually sits…”
But when I look down the block, the spot’s empty. No Larry.
My steps falter. “Huh.” I bite the inside of my cheek, scanning the sidewalk. “He’s always right here.”
Ashton glances at me. “Maybe he just moved to another corner?”
“Yeah,” I say softly, though the thought sticks like a splinter.I hope he’s okay… wherever he is.
Ashton slips the bag from my hand. “Come on, I’ll take it home. Free carbs are never a bad idea.”
