“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” Lola says, chuckling.
“Right?”
“So, what’s the plan today? You gonna go to the coffee shop and do some writing?”
I take a sip of my coffee and nod. “Yeah. Want to come with me? You can bring your laptop and do your work there too.”
“Sure. I could use an excuse to get out of the house. Plus, I have energy to spare after last night. It will be nice to take a walk.”
I shift in my seat, hoping I’m not too sore for a walk. Guess we’ll find out. “Cool. I showered at Bash’s, but I need to change. Give me twenty minutes, then we can head out?”
Lola laughs. “Sounds good. Go change out of your walk-of-shame outfit.”
“You mean walk-of-success outfit?”
She laughs even harder. “Hell yeah, babe. That’s exactly right.”
The walkto the coffee shop is so familiar by now that I could probably do it with my eyes closed. The warm early June weather and fully green trees, along with the bright pops of colorful gardens in so many of the yards we pass, have me enjoying it more than usual.
Did I ever savor a walk to a cafe like this in LA? I don’t think I did. Not with always needing to look over my shoulder, thanks to insatiable paparazzi with no respect for privacy or personal boundaries.
I don’t miss it. For the first time in so long, I can breathe.
“What would you think about extending our stay?” I ask Lola as we walk the last few blocks to The Bean House.
“If you hadn’t suggested it, I was going to,” Lola says brightly. “I’m in.”
“Are you sure?”
“Hell yeah. I’m having fun here. Sebastian’s friends are awesome, and I want to see where things with Megan go.” She smiles at me. “Plus, I haven’t seen you this happy in…well, maybe ever. No way are we leaving right when things are getting good.”
Relief washes over me in warm waves, and I inhale deeply. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath. “Thanks, Lols. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Become a hermit and never leave your house, most likely.”
“Probably.” I get to the door of the coffee shop first and hold it open for her. “I’d have a hundred cats, piles of old newspapers, and one day they’d find my partially eaten corpse because the mail had been piling up for weeks.”
“Girl. That’s dark.” I follow Lola into the shop. “But probably accurate.”
A few heads turn our way when she laughs brightly, but I don’t pay them any mind. Not like I would have in LA. Instead, I head over to the counter where the barista greets me with a smile and asks if I want my regular.
I have a regular order.
It brings me a stupid amount of joy, and I can’t stop smiling as we carry our drinks over to a little table in the corner.
“How’s the manuscript coming?” Lola asks as I get my laptop set up the way I like. She does the same, though I know she’ll spend the first fifteen minutes of her day scrolling social media so she can stay on top of any emerging trends she can use for the brands she works with.
“Really good, actually. I’m ahead of schedule.”
“Wow, Indie, that’s amazing.”
I’m pretty good about keeping up with my deadlines, but sometimes the inspiration flows more easily than others. And ever since we ditched LA for Minneapolis, the words have been flowing. I don’t know if it’s the change of scenery or reconnecting with Sebastian, but whatever it is, I hope it doesn’t end. If I can keep this pace going, I’ll be able to get a head start on my next project.
“Do you have ideas for your next story?”
My face heats. “Maaaybe.”
“Wait,” Lola says, chuckling. “Let me guess. It’s a hockey romance.”
