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She looked up, nodding at my cup. “Tea is more your thing?”

I couldn’t say why, but I told her the story of my mom and me, our nightly ritual, and how even now, if I smacked my lips a certain way after I’d taken a drink, I could smell my mom’s breath when she tucked me into bed.

I scrubbed my jaw with my hand, groaning. “God, I haven’t told anyone that. Ishouldn’thave told anyone that.”

Her long lashes kissed her cheeks as she took a few long blinks. “Why did you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe—” I turned toward the window, tracking a mail woman walking down the sidewalk, a heavy bag on her shoulder as she stopped at businesses, delivering letters and small packages. “Maybe you’re easy to talk to because I know something about you very few people do.”

She smirked, sipping from her cup. “Ah, so if I threaten to spill your sweet tea-drinkin’ story, you’ll rat me out.”

Immediately, I sat straighter, any trace of a smile dropping from my face. “I would never, Maeve.Never. That isn’t me.”

“I believe you.”

She touched my hand, just for a second, and only to reassure me, but goddamn if I didn’t feel it all the way to my belly.

“Tell me why you hide it.” Again, what the hell was I doing? My brother way half in love with this girl—fucking eighteen-year-oldgirl—and here I sat, in her little coffee shop, asking about her life. Now, I made some shit decisions. Plenty of them. A wide array of them. But never had I wanted to pull myself aside, tell me to look in the mirror, and ask myself who the hell I thought I was.

“You know how you have your tradition with your mama, and even though she’s no longer here, you’ve kept it because it makes you feel connected?” I nodded. “My tradition with my mama is cotillion lessons and debutante balls and bein’ alady. But it’s also learnin’ to bake with her, passin’ on stories, and sittin’ side by side at the piano playin’ chopsticks and Chopin.”

“You think if you tell her you play drums, all that will stop?”

“I know it will. My mama does all that with me so I’ll turn out to be a replica of her.” She gestured to her body. “I’ve already disappointed her on this front, but I try harder at everything else to make up for it. And, to be completely honest, I want her to love me. I’m not sure she does, but I cling to the idea that if I keep in my little box, which gets tighter and tighter each day, she’ll find a way to really loveme.”

“Maeve, Jesus, I’m sorry.”

She waved me off. “It’s not a sob story. I hope you don’t take it as such. I’m sure a lot of kids have parents who will never get them. I just have a rebel heart, and if you tell me no, I’m gonna try anyway.”

“I think I have a similar affliction.”

We shared a grin, sipped our drinks, and time should’ve stood still, but of course it didn’t. She had to get back to work, and I had to get to rehearsal.

“You should come back. I might be able to slip you free tea.” She winked, and it was really fucking cute.

“Maybe.” I rocked back on my heels. “I’m probably going to show up early again tomorrow. Need some practice.”

“And I’ll probably be there.”

I backed toward the door, feeling like an asshole, but I honestly could not look away from this girl. The sun hit her just right, making her eyes sparkle like emeralds. Her cheeks were aflame, and her frilly little apron only emphasized her outrageous curves.

The goth girl at the register let out a theatrical sigh. “Oh my god, you’ll see her tomorrow. She’ll look just as adorable then. And if you can’t wait, I happen to know this girl’s Facebook page is tragically unsecured, so you can stare at her pics all night.” She swept her hands through the air. “Shoo, shoo.”

Chuckling lightly, I dipped my head. “See you, Maeve.”

Her blush intensified. “Bye, Santi.”

Carrying my tea into rehearsal was a stupid decision. But I’d been distracted, thinking about Maeve, thinking about her secrets, her double life.

Diego was the only one in the garage. “S’up, bro?”

“Where’s everyone else?” I asked.

He tipped his head to the right. “Kitchen, getting sustenance.” His eyes narrowed. “Wait a second, did you go to an actual coffee shop?”

“Uh. Yeah. Heard they served good tea.”

“And?” He raised his eyebrows.


Tags: Julia Wolf Unrequited Romance