Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
LYRIC
“Why are you only wearing one shoe?” Pete asks.
I set my coffee mug down on the table and lean over to look underneath it at my feet. Huh, he’s right. I have a sandal on my left foot, the other one is just free balling it. I wiggle my toes and sit upright again.
“That’s weird.” It’s really the only answer I can give.
Hell if I know where the other sandal fucked off to.
Shoes tend to have minds of their own. Not just shoes, either.
Pretty much everything I’ve ever owned has had ways of escaping on their own little adventures.
Most stuff turns up eventually, so it’s not worth stressing over.
Goose snorts a laugh and then looks across the table at Hennessey.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be at the restaurant?”
A wicked smile stretches across Hen’s face, and he takes a slow sip of his tea.
“It’s fun to see the vein in Storm’s head throb if I show up a couple of minutes late. I’m hoping I can frustrate him so much that he’ll spank me in front of the rest of the kitchen staff.” He waggles his eyebrows and smirks some more.
“I can lend you a spatula if you need one,” Goose jokes, and both the brothers groan.
“Ugh, I had just managed to erase the image of my brother spanking you with a spatula from my brain and now it’s back.” Hennessey pushes his half-finished tea away and stands up. “Now you’ve ruined the spanking fantasy for me too. I hope you’re happy.” He sighs dramatically. “See you guys later.”
Pete gives Goose a playful smack on the arm as Hennessey weaves around the full tables and the long order line to leave the café.
It’s just as busy outside. Through the large front windows, I can see people filling the tables Raven puts out on the sidewalk during the summer to make more space, and tourists ambling up and down the street.
“Are you working anywhere this season, Lyric? Or just bumming around and enjoying the perks of tourist season?” Goose flashes me a cheeky smile, just in case I might have been confused about what perks he might be talking about.
I chuckle and shake my head, taking another sip of my coffee.
It’s cooled down to room temperature now.
I don’t know if I prefer it lukewarm or if I’ve just gotten used to it because I tend to forget I have coffee and never manage to finish it while it’s hot…
or while there’s still ice in it if I go that route.
I don’t know what Raven does to make his coffee so smooth, but it’s way better than I ever manage to brew at home.
“No to hooking up or no to any job?” Goose asks.
Oh, were we still having that conversation?
“I’m happy to pick up odd jobs around if anybody needs anything, but I don’t have a full-time gig lined up. If you need help with the soap, let me know.”
Huh, why do I feel like I’m forgetting something all of a sudden? It’s that little niggle in the back of my brain that feels important but doesn’t come with any more information. Could be anything. Oh well, if it’s important, I’ll probably remember it eventually.
Goose sputters a choked sound into his coffee and Pete reaches for a napkin to hand to him so he can wipe his face off once he sets his mug down.
“Uh, no, that’s okay. I think we’re all set.”
“People really liked that scent I mixed last summer,” I remind him.
“Is that the one that smelled like feet?” Pete asks.
Goose and I both laugh. Oh, that’s right, it turned out the scents I picked really didn’t mix well at all. I think he ended up giving that batch to tourists who were rude for the rest of the season.
“This is probably a rude question, but what do you do for money if you don’t work every season?” Pete asks.
“I’m secretly a millionaire.”
They both laugh again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the café door swinging open again, and familiar, light blond hair catches my attention.
I haven’t seen Yuri since the beach party two weeks ago.
My body heats at the sight of him and my smile widens automatically.
He looks around the packed café for a minute, and I notice his fingers twitching, tapping in that steady rhythm that he always does.
His gaze lands on me and I wave him over before my brain can catch up with my body.
His eyes dart to Pete and Goose, then to me again, and he hesitates for a few seconds.
I wave again. He’s never going to find another table this time of the morning.
Maybe he doesn’t want people to see us together and assume anything, but I can play it cool.
It’s not like I’m going to jump across the table and shove my tongue down his throat.
I’d like to, but I won’t. He finally nods, then points to the line.
He’ll come sit with us once he’s ordered.
I nod, and when I look back at Pete and Goose, they’re both grinning at me.
“What’s that all about?” Goose asks.
“What?”
“I didn’t know you and Yuri were so friendly.”
“He’s cool,” I say vaguely.
“You’re mysterious, man,” Goose says.
I laugh at that and my eyes are drawn to Yuri again, standing in line, studying the chalkboard menu that’s up near the counter, tapping his fingers rhythmically.
A random memory jogs loose of him tapping that same pattern against my shoulder blade while he lay draped across my back in the middle of the night, years ago.
“We’d better go.” I’m only half listening to Pete and Goose now, lost in memory. “I told Lux we’d drop off a batch of each of the new scents this morning. See ya, Lyric.”
“See ya,” I respond automatically.
YURI
Everyone warned me how different it would feel around here once the season was underway, but I don’t think anything could have actually prepared me for all this.
Someone bumps against me from behind while I wait in line and I feel my insides curl up a little bit like I’m one of those roly-poly bugs in human form.
Except, on the outside, I look totally normal.
I’ve spent my whole life making sure that no one ever sees the roly-poly-ness or the sobbing in my living room when everything catches up or…
honestly most of what goes on inside my head if I can help it.
I glance back over at Cooper and find him looking right back at me, a frown in place of his usual laid-back smile. I cock my head, wondering what has him looking so un-Cooper-like all of a sudden. His friends are all gone now, maybe that’s why?
The guy in line right in front of me lets out a booming laugh at something one of his companions says, and I wince inadvertently.
Again, normally I’m much better at hiding those reactions, and I doubt anyone noticed, but with the constant chaos around here over the past two weeks and one late night at the bar after another, I’m more on edge than usual.
It’s almost enough to make me crave the quiet and predictability of my lab.
Cooper stands up from the table. My heart sinks but I shoot him a reassuring smile across the café and shuffle forward as the line moves.
I get it—he didn’t think it would take this long for me to order, and he has places to be.
That’s fine. I wasn’t expecting to see him this morning anyway.
He stands next to the table for a second looking indecisive before he stoops down, takes his sandal off (why is he only wearing one to begin with?), and puts it in the middle of the table.
I wrinkle my nose and notice that a couple of guys, who had started to close in when they thought he was getting up, back off quickly. I stifle a laugh and Cooper walks barefoot across the café towards me.
“What are you—”
He tilts his head back towards the table with the sandy shoe sitting right in the middle of it, surrounded by four abandoned mugs.
“Go sit down, I’ll wait in line for you. Black coffee still, right?”
I stare at him for a second, my mouth falling open and my fidgeting going still.
“Oh, you don’t have to…”
“I don’t mind. Go ahead, before the shoe isn’t enough to stop someone from stealing the table from us.” He nudges me, and I give in, letting him take my place in line.
I set his sandal under his chair and spend a couple of minutes stacking up the empty mugs, using napkins to clean the sand off the table top, and trying hard not to analyze what the hell just happened.
I can’t stop my brain from going there though.
Has my mask really slipped that badly that he could tell how uncomfortable I was?
It’s fine, I know Coop would never judge me over something like that, but what does it mean that he wanted to take care of me like he used to?
He’s mentioned twice now that he didn’t think I liked his chaos and unpredictability when we were together, and he’s right that they were both hard for me at times.
But I think one of the reasons we worked so well as a couple is that we balanced each other out.
I was good at remembering the things he forgot and taking care of practical details and planning, and he was good at staying calm in situations that stressed me out and keeping me from being too rigid at times.
We’re not together now, obviously, but I guess he’s still Cooper, still willing to do anything for anyone.
The table is fairly sand-free by the time he makes it back with coffee and a muffin.
“I couldn’t resist the mango muffin this morning. You’ve gotta try this.” He puts the plate and the mug down in front of me then takes his seat again.
“Thanks. You really didn’t have to do that.”
He waves off the thanks and breaks a small piece off my muffin to pop into his mouth. I smile and do the same, groaning when the unexpected flavor hits my tongue.
“Oh wow, this is good.” I nudge the plate closer to him so he knows I don’t mind sharing.
He nods in agreement and we slowly pick the muffin apart together.
“How are you holding up so far?” he asks.
“It’s been a lot,” I confess. “It turns out that bartending for a few dozen residents is a lot different than bartending for hundreds of tourists. People keep ordering drinks I’ve never heard of, which I wouldn’t mind except that I hardly have any time to look them up and mix them properly before someone else is shouting at me. ”
“What kinds of stuff are they asking for?”
“I’ve gotten used to some of them, like the blowjob shot and Sex on the beach.
I can mix those pretty quick now. Except, even when I follow the recipe exactly, guys always look a little disappointed by them?
So I don’t know what the deal with that is.
Last night, this guy asked for a ‘quick fuck’ and I couldn’t find that in any of the bartending books. ”
Cooper’s eyebrows fly up and he barks out a laugh.
“I think he was actually asking for a fuck, Yur.”
I stare at him for a second, processing that, and then I sputter a laugh too. “Well, that explains why he gave me such a weird look when I offered him a beer instead.”
“Lyric, there you are. What the hell, man?” Trick interrupts our laughter.
“What’s up?” Cooper asks, licking the muffin crumbs off of his fingers and leaning back in his chair without a care in the world.
“You promised you’d come man the surf shop for an hour this morning so I could teach surf lessons,” Trick reminds him.
“Oh shit, I knew I was forgetting something.” He stands up in a hurry. Trick looks down at his bare feet—his lone sandal still sitting under his chair—then shakes his head and waves for Cooper to follow him. “Catch you later,” he calls back to me, and I wave as he rushes out.
I take a sip of my coffee and look around the crowded café.
If my drink was in a to-go cup, there’s no question that I would get up and leave now, maybe take it back home or see if I could find somewhere quiet for a few minutes to enjoy drinking it.
But it’s in a mug, which means I either have to go up to the counter and ask for a travel cup (shudder), take the mug with me and promise myself that I’ll bring it back later (gasp, definitely too scandalous for me.
It’s borderline criminal), or suck it up and stay here alone.
I can do this. It’s just sitting in a café, drinking coffee.
I was planning to sit by myself anyway. Well, no, I was planning to get my coffee to go and be by myself out of the public eye, which is very different from sitting alone in front of people.
But I’ll be fine. I slip my phone out of my pocket and pull up an article I was reading earlier about the best time to plant various fruits and vegetables in this climate.
Before long, the chaos of the café kind of fades away around me. I catch myself smiling as I sip my coffee and switch back and forth between the article and my notes app, feeling more grounded than I have in the past two weeks.