She slapped her forehead. “I guess our cover is blown.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t want me to,” he said.
“That would be lovely, Santi. Maeve likes to keep her passion on the DL. Her parentals are muy stricto, and according to them, piano and violin are the only appropriate instruments for a young lady,” Yael said, still leaning in the doorway.
I got up from my seat, tucking my sticks in my back pocket. “I have to go to work anyway. Thank you, Santi, for playin’ with me—and keepin’ my secret. I really appreciate it.”
“I had a good time.” He sounded like admitting that was akin to getting flayed then having lemon squeezed on the wound. I didn’t get what his deal was. He was nice as could be whenever I maneuvered him into interacting with me, but the fact that I had to maneuver was baffling. His brother was all up in my business, coming out into the backyard whenever Yael and I were out there, finding excuses to chat. Seemed Santi was cut from a different cloth.
“You’re welcome to join me when you want to. I’ll leave the side door unlocked.” I gave him a flirty wink because I had a massive fucking crush on him and I was trying like hell to convey that.
Then, like the dork I was, I stuck my cap from the coffee shop I worked at on top of my head and tipped the bill at him. “Good day, sir.”
His lips curved into some semblance of a smile before he lowered his head and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Bye, Maeve.”
Santiago
I liked drinking tea, that was a fact. When my mom was alive, she’d make us both a cup of Earl Grey after dinner, and we’d watchWheel of Fortuneand sometimesJeopardyif she was feeling generous. I’d dropped the TV shows when she died, but the tea habit had stuck with me.
So, when I walked into Sunrise Grinds, I had a reason to be there. It wasn’t because I’d seen the name of the place on Maeve’s hat. Nah. Definitely not. I was here for the tea.
A goth girl with jet black hair stood behind the register, giving me an incongruously sunny smile. “Welcome, welcome. What’ll it be, handsome?”
She threw me off so much, I only blinked at her.
Bracing her hands on either side of the register, she leaned forward. “Hey. There’s no shame if you want to order a floofy drink. You want a unicorn smoothie with extra whip and sparkles?”
Playing along, I leaned in close. “If I wanted a unicorn smoothie, I’d order it and drink that shit with pride.”
She nodded like I’d just said the exact right thing. “Okay, mad props, sir. Tell me what you’d like for real.”
“Can I have a medium Earl Grey with lemon?”
“You sure can. Go find a seat and I’ll bring it out to you.”
I’d never really been a coffee house guy. If I wanted a cup of coffee, I grabbed one at McDonalds or a diner, and that was a pretty rare occurrence. Usually, I had a thermal cup full of tea in the truck, so I felt out of sorts in this place, with its delicate tables and ironwork chairs. I found one out of the way with a clear view of the counter and took a seat.
Maeve was easy to spot, even with her long hair tucked away under her cap and a frilly apron covering her clothes. She laughed at something the goth girl said while she worked on fulfilling an order.
Goth Girl whispered something in Maeve’s ear, causing her to look up and scan the small seating area. When she found me, our eyes locked, and she bit her plump little lip, trying to hold back a smile.
My chest felt heavy, like a massive weight had just landed on it. I knew what that weight was. Knew I was doing the wrong thing just by being here.
Still, I didn’t get up to leave. I should’ve, especially when Maeve brought me my tea, carrying another drink in her other hand.
“Hey.” She placed the tea in front of me. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Hi, Maeve. Yeah, I got thirsty.” I nudged the other chair with my foot. “Can you stay a while?”
She gave me the widest smile, and all at once, I was struck by how damn young she was, but also by how incredibly gorgeous she was.
“I happen to be takin’ my fifteen-minute break right now.” She took the chair across from me, placing her cup on the table. “I’ve never seen you here before.”
I cocked my head. “Do you remember all your patrons?”
“Oh, I’d remember you, Santi.” Her sweet, apple cheeks turned rosy, and she lowered her head, trying to hide behind her curtain of hair.
“I haven’t been here before. Not much of a coffee drinker.”