Chapter 12
Ariana
LIKE NO TIME
It’s a little unnerving having Cole here after not seeing him for so long—like no time and far too much time have passed all at once.
He’s still on his phone when I tie my apron and slip back behind the counter, but he glances up when I pass, and the hard expression that was etched on his face loosens.
“You look better.” He pulls the phone from his ear, eyes sweeping over me.
“Amazing what a shower can do.” I’d called Lina during the morning rush and asked if she could come in early so I could run home. Thankfully she said yes, sparing me from spending the rest of the day smelling like whatever came out of that pipe.
I keep myself occupied by restocking the pastry case, mostly to have something to do with my hands. “You didn’t have to stay.”
“I know.” He sets his phone face down on the table. “I wanted to make sure the mitigation company actually showed up.”
I glance at him. “Did they?”
“They’re downstairs now. One of the older pipes must’ve frozen with the cold snap and given out. I’ll need to get someone out to assess the damage before we know what we’re dealing with, but it shouldn’t affect the shop. I’ll make sure of it.”
When I called him this morning, it was pure panic—I didn’t think beyond getting someone on the phone. I definitely didn’t expect him to show up himself, let alone still be here hours later. I’m not sure why that surprises me as much as it does. “Thank you. Really. I mean it.”
He holds my gaze for a beat, a sudden intensity on his face that morphs into a contrite frown. “Don’t thank me, doll. It’s my building.”
“Still,” I press, trying to draw out the Cole I know and not this serious man who hasn’t cracked a smile once.
He nods once, retreating to his corner table and picking his phone back up. I return behind the counter, trying to stay busy. For a while the shop hums along around us like nothing is different and nothing is strange and the last few months didn’t happen the way they did.
It almost feels normal if I don’t think about it too deeply.
The afternoon rush filters in steadily—the usual faces, the usual orders.
I move through it on autopilot, pulling shots and steaming milk, calling out names.
Cole stays at the back corner table, alternating between his phone and his laptop, and I’m aware of him in the peripheral way I’m always aware of him when he’s near, like a frequency I’ve never quite managed to tune out.
I’m so absorbed in making the most recent order that I almost miss Sadie’s quiet voice.
“Heads up,” she murmurs, nudging me as she passes. “Professor Hottie at two o’clock.”
I look up just as Wes steps through the door.
He’s in his usual uniform—a cardigan today in a deep navy, glasses pushed up his nose, a canvas tote bag hanging off one shoulder. He scans the room with an unhurried ease, and when his eyes land on me, his face opens into a warm smile.
“Hey.” He steps up to the counter. “It’s been a rough day. I need something strong.”
“I thought finals were over.” I smile back, reaching for a cup. “The usual?”
“Please.” He leans against the counter. “They are, which is why I spent the morning fielding emails from students who apparently can’t accept they are less than perfect. Anyway—” he waves it off—”how are you? I feel like I haven’t been in for a while.”
“You haven’t,” I say, and it comes out lighter than I expect. “I was starting to think you found somewhere else.”
“Never.” His eyes hold mine captive for an extended moment. “This place has ruined every other coffee shop. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
I laugh, ducking my head slightly as I start on his drink. Behind me I can hear the familiar sounds of the shop—the hiss of the steam wand, the low murmur of conversation—and I tell myself the warmth spreading up the back of my neck is just from the coffee machines and not the man in front of me.
“Actually,” Wes says, his voice dropping slightly, “I’ve been meaning to come in. I wanted to ask you something.”
I look up at him from the espresso machine, my heart doing a little flutter.
He tilts his head, and there’s something very deliberate in his appreciation as his gaze roves over me. The heat behind it makes my stomach do a slow, uncertain turn.
“I was wondering if you’d want to get—”
“Hey, Ariana!”
A loud voice comes from across the room, forcing my attention off Wes.
I turn to find Cole no longer looking at his laptop.
He’s looking directly at me and Wes, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, jaw hard, brows drawn in, eyes blazing.
I can’t tell if he’s angry or if I’m just reading him wrong.
All I know is it’s a look I’ve never seen on him before.
Controlled on the surface. Something else entirely underneath.
Wes straightens, glancing between me and Cole with a curious gaze. He’s not rattled like I would’ve expected considering how intimidating Cole can appear when he tries.
“I think that guy wants your attention.” Wes’s brows rise, silently questioning why Cole decided this very moment to interrupt us.
Cole pushes back his chair. He doesn’t rush. He crosses the room the way he does everything—like he owns whatever space he’s walking into, which in this case he literally does. He stops at the counter, not close enough to be aggressive, but close enough to make his presence known.
“I need your help with something.” There’s an odd ring to his voice, and I don’t know what to make of it.
“We’re kind of in the middle of something here,” Wes says pleasantly, yet condescendingly.
A muscle jumps in Cole’s jaw. “It’ll just take a moment.”
The air in the immediate vicinity of the counter has taken on an uncomfortable quality. Sadie has gone very still near the steam wand.
“Cole, I’m sure it can wait.” My voice comes out low and pointed. Can he not see this could be the moment Wes is finally asking me out? Why is he sabotaging this?
“It actually can’t.”
Before I can comprehend what’s happening, Cole has walked over to my side of the counter and grabbed hold of my arm, dragging me away.
“We’ll be right back,” he says to Wes.
And apparently I’m too stunned to react, because I’m willingly letting him pull me away.
He walks us straight to the back room and doesn’t stop until we’re well into my prep space.
“What the hell are you doing?” I say, slipping out of his grasp.
His jaw works. He drags his eyes from my arm to my face. “You can’t go out with him.”
So, he knew exactly what he was doing. Clearly, he’s lost his mind. “And you think you have a say because…”
“Ariana—”
“No.” I lower my voice, aware of the way sound travels in this building. “You don’t get to disappear for months and run off a guy I’ve been crushing on, right when he’s about to finally ask me out! That’s not—” I stop, pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose. “You don’t have that right, Cole.”
He at least has the wherewithal to appear guilty, maybe even some remorse. That, or he’s awfully good at faking it.
“You can’t go out with him,” he repeats, the conviction in his voice weak.
“Why?” I’m not sure why I’m bothering to ask. There’s nothing he can say to justify his actions.
“Because I won’t let you.”