Grey: The WHOLE night jerking off? Wow. That’s some stamina you must have…

Cal: Oh my god. This is my worst nightmare

Grey: ^^^ you sound like such a girl.

Cal: Wait. Did you just screenshot that shit????

Grey: No. Maybe. Okay, fine. Yes.

Cal: What are you up to right now?

Grey: I’m about to walk into work. But instead I’m sitting here in a chair by the door like a creeper, texting you.

Cal: Sorry.

Grey: Don’t APOLOGIZE. Sheesh, Calvin. How could you have known I was at work? Besides, it’s my choice. I’d rather sit and talk to you any day of the week. I work until 10 tonight, which—yuck.

Cal: That’s a long shift.

Grey: Yeah, but it’s the only day I work this week. I’m really grateful they’re so flexible. Confession? I think the manager has a crush on me or something. It’s kind of embarrassing, but it also works in my favor.

Cal: I don’t blame the guy. Wait. It is a GUY, right?

Grey: *rolling my eyes*giggle* Yeah, it’s a guy. Not nearly as sexy as you ;)

Cal: You did NOT just say that.

Grey: Oh boy, here we go again…

Greyson

The espresso machine hisses, and I pour cold, clear water into the top of the machine's water chamber, checking quickly to make sure the boiler cap is secured. My co-worker Rebecca tosses me the filter holder that I’d forgotten to grab when I started to fill the machine with grounds, and I call out a hasty “Thanks” as I lightly brush the coffee debris off the counter that escaped when I changed it earlier.

I remove the glass carafe under the spout and flip the switch on the machine, humming to myself as the steam heats the water to an extra hot temperature—like the customer ordered—and almost don’t notice when the coffee starts to overflow into the small carafe. Crap, how on earth did that happen?

“Shoot,” I murmur as the brown liquid skims the top of the glass container, the foam now becoming white. I push back the lever and remove the cup, careful not to spill any of the precious nectar.

Nectar? Oh, brother, listen to me.

I add a shot of sugar-free vanilla, pour the espresso into the tiny to-go cup, pop the plastic lid on, and slide the beverage across the counter at my waiting customer with a smile.

“Anything else?” I ask.

“Nope!” She tosses her hair over her shoulder and a few pennies into the tip jar, giving me a backwards wave, and pushes her way out the front door.

I reach behind me and pull back on the ribbon securing my green apron, tighten it so it’s not quite so loose, and begin wiping down the hard granite counter where we keep the flavor syrups.

As I’m adjusting the nozzle on the sanitizer spray bottle so it comes out in a steady stream, Rebecca scoots by me, giving me a sharp shove in the hip.

“What the hell, Becca?”

“Meathead, twelve o’clock,” she mutters, rushing to the cash register. I hear her brightly call out, “Hi there! What can we make for you today!”

Wow, she sounds uncharacteristically cheerful.

Shaking my head with a chuckle, I begin spraying the sanitizer around the basin of the steel prep sink, but a deep baritone response from the other side of the cash counter has me stopping in my tracks.

“Grey working?”

I spin on my heel, tossing the rag in my hand to the backsplash. “Cal!” I take a few surprised steps forward. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been doing a shit ton of studying today and needed a break. Grab some caffeine,” he says, causally stuffing his hands in the pockets of low-slung sweat pants, then looking up at the menu board on the wall. “Anything good here?”

Delighted, I cannot contain my enthusiasm. “You’re an hour away! Are you crazy?”

I’m positively giddy.

Cal looks embarrassed, his cheeks taking on a pinkish hue.

“Didn’t we already establish we both have a touch of the crazy?”

A bubble of laughter escapes my lips. “Good point.”

Beside me, Rebecca clears her throat loudly. “Uh hem.”

“Oh! Sorry, Becca. Cal, this is my co-worker Rebecca. She is required to put up with my atrocious barista skills. Becca, this is Cal, my friend. He goes to SMU.”

“Cal? The Cal? Boyfriend Cal?”

Oh, crap, that’s right. I give Becca an amused look. “You follow me on Twitter?”

“Uh, everyone follows you on Twitter,” she snickers.

This is news to me. “Well, Becca, this is Cal.”

“In the flesh,” Cal adds gamely, giving her a cocky grin.

“Phew, is it hot in here?” Rebecca blushes down into her black collared shirt. “Okay, well. Since we have no other customers, why don’t you go take a break? If it gets swamped—” she rolls her eyes “—I’ll shout for you.”

Have I mentioned lately how much I freaking love, love, love Rebecca?

“Do you want to go sit for a bit?” I ask Cal. He gives a jerky nod. "Can I make something for you quick?"

“Um… how about a trenta green tea lemonade.”

“Coming right—”

“—Actually, Grey, I got it,” Becca says, cutting me off with a wink. “Go. Sit. The lull isn’t going to last forever.”

She doesn’t have to tell me twice.

Calvin

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I can’t either,” I deadpan. “I got in my truck to grab a coffee and kept driving until I ended up here.”

“Just like that, huh?” Greyson is beaming at me, a megawatt smile so blinding it’s like gazing at the sun, and I can hardly stand to look at her.

“Um, don’t read too much into it,” I force myself to say.

“Mmm hmm, okay.” She’s leaning back now in the stiff wooden chair, her shoe dangling from the foot crossed over her leg. She tilts her head to one side as she studies me, and her long, blonde ponytail—a stark contrast against her black shirt—cascades over her shoulder. “I won’t. You just got in your car and drove. For an hour.” Grey bats her eyelashes at me.

I blink then look away.

“Stop it,” I finally say as Becca walks over, setting a large green tea lemonade on the table in front of me. She doesn’t say anything, but I see her mouth Oh my God to Greyson before turning and hustling back to the counter.

“I must say, Calvin, if you’re trying to dispel the rumors that I have a boyfriend, you’re doing a terrible job by showing up here.”

“I think you fueled the rumors yourself after that match last week.”

“Alright, fair enough. But I wouldn’t do anything differently because that kiss was… phew!” She props her elbow on the table, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. “My toes are still tingling.”

I ignore her blissful sigh and clear my throat.

“I told you, I came here for a coffee.”

Her hazel eyes zero in on my green tea lemonade, and she arches a perfect eyebrow.

“Fine, sexy barista, if you really must know, I don’t drink coffee.”

Greyson’s eyes soften around the edges as she watches me fiddle with my straw. “Your bruises are fading,” she remarks.

“Yeah, I know. It sucks, too. No one messes with me when I have double shiners.”