CHAPTER 6 #3
By the time we made it to the counter, the shop had thinned out a bit as most everyone took their orders to go. The man behind the counter smiled brightly at us as if the lunch rush hadn’t completely exhausted him and he truly loved his job.
I’d never seen him before, so he was clearly new.
Probably in his late twenties like me. He was shorter by a few inches, slender, and honestly, really cute.
I wasn’t thinking it because I was interested.
Hell no, especially not with Cam at my side being all sorts of eye candy.
But he was someone the past me would have totally hit on.
But for as long as I’d come here, the same woman had worked here, Emily. Or the handsome shop owner, Vince Blackrose.
“What happened to Emily?” I asked.
Seeing that I was obviously a regular, the man’s smile turned more genuine,
“She had to move. Family stuff.”
“Ah, well I hope she’s doing alright,” I told him. “We’ll have two daily specials, please. And two Sluts for Caramel Apple Muffins.”
“You got it,” he said, voice cheery as he typed in our orders on his computer screen. He slid the muffins across the counter wrapped in their maple-print fall paper wrappings. “Name for the order?”
“Vic.”
I watched his fingers hover over the screen for a second before his gaze shot up to my face. Recognition seemed to spark in his mossy green eyes as they widened slightly.
“Vic? Vic Grimsley?”
“Umm, yeah?” I said, suddenly kind of nervous.
When situations like this had happened to me in the past – and they had indeed happened an unrealistic, uncomfortable amount of times – the question had always been the same.
“Don’t you remember me?” they would say flirtatiously.
And, nine times out of ten, I didn’t. Alcohol was a dangerous thing.
Each encounter usually resulted in an insulted slap to the cheek or drinks being poured over my head.
I nearly took a cautious step back, just to be safe.
“Wow! I thought I recognized you!” he exclaimed, smiling even brighter now and I stiffened.
Like, what the fuck? How could someone appear so happy.
It had to be exhausting. I blinked before I realized I had briefly tuned out what he was saying, expecting the worst before he continued, “We went to the same college, Cresthill U. We were in the same major. I remember you from a few of our shared classes.”
I practically sighed in relief. Thank fuck this wasn’t about to devolve into one of those awkward scenarios with Cam right here. I was not above shoving muffins into a stranger’s face to shut them up. I was a petty bitch, I’d do it. But thankfully, I didn’t have to resort to pastry abuse.
Innocent bystander. Crisis averted. Stand down.
“Oh, um, sorry,” I told him, rubbing the back of my neck. “College was a... bit of a blur.” I was surprised I’d even graduated. Plus, I had been with Ron so... yeah.
“I get it,” he said, unbothered. He then tapped his name tag. “Ash. Ash Addams. Not surprised you don’t remember me; I was pretty quiet and kept to myself. And you were also kind of intimidating.”
I stared at him dumbly and blinked. Me? Intimidating?
As Cam introduced himself, a thought nagged at my brain.
If Ash was also an Arcane Arts major, there certainly weren't a shortage of jobs in that department.
Not even in Briarwood. People skilled in arcane studies and magic were pretty much needed in any career field.
Kinda like plumbers or electricians. They were essential to every business.
As usual, my lack of a brain-to-mouth filter kicked in and I asked,
“If you were in the same major, what are you doing making coffee?” Then I winced as the question processed in my ears. I sounded like a nosy, insensitive prick.
My expression must have betrayed me, because he laughed lightly, “No worries.”
Then, seeing no one waiting behind us in line, he began making our drinks as he talked.
“You know how it goes. Life happens, things don’t go as planned, you work your ass off for a career that you aren’t sure you want any more then you find yourself divorced, scrambling for any job you can find at twenty-nine, living in a water-stained closet of an apartment, and end up in a coffee shop run by a cheesy movie loving, cat obsessed man who ropes you into coming up with equally as cheesy drink names to change up the monotony that is every single day.
But hey,” he sucked in a breath after that long-winded speech adding a brief, “at least I get to wear this cute-ass apron.”
“It is a cute apron,” Cam piped up from beside me, completely unaffected. He wasn’t wrong. It had a little embroidered cat on the front and everything.
Ash gave us his clearly perfected customer service smile as he set our finished drinks in front of me. As he told me the total and I tapped my phone to the card reader, I felt the need to say something. I didn’t know this guy, even though he apparently remembered me. But Cam beat me to it.
“Sometimes, it takes hitting rock bottom to realize there’s a better life for you on the other side.” Well damn if those words didn’t strike a chord in my soul. Theeen Cam added, “Believe me. I had to die to figure it out.”
Ash’s brows had scrunched in confusion, mouth popping slightly open.
I moved to whip my hand up to slap it over Cam’s mouth before he said anything more incriminating but was stopped as the chain binding me and Cam’s wrists reached its length.
That was when Ash’s eyes trailed down to our hands above the counter. To the handcuffs. The fuzzy pink sex handcuffs.
I froze, watching as Ash blinked slowly at the cuffs, then up to flick between Cam and I.
His expression was... loaded. He clearly had many, many questions, all kept behind his pursed lips. Until he couldn’t restrain himself further.
“So, is this like... a bounty hunter thing? Or a... sex thing? Either way-”
“No!” I rushed out, raising my hands to waive them in front of me, immediately forgetting the cuff again and tugging Cam’s arm up, stuttering, “Nope. This is... Well, um... Funny story... Hah! Uh...”
“We did find these in that sex toy collection,” Cam added unhelpfully when I trailed off. “So, it kind of is a sex thing?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose with a sigh, “Not helping.”
Ash gave us a knowing look, then inched our coffees with the muffins toward us.
“So, you’re stuck?” he asked.
“Yes.” I groaned as if in genuine pain. This whole encounter was painful, actually. Awkward and hilarious at my own expense, but I was surprised to find that I wasn’t embarrassed, per se. Maybe because it was Cam who I was stuck to.
“Do you...” Ash began hesitantly, “want to be stuck?”
“Yes,” Cam blurted immediately. No hesitation. Whatsoever. Just a rapid-fire answer filled with confidence. Ash’s eyes widened at the bold admission as I stood there dumbstruck. Then I clamped my mouth shut, narrowing my gaze up at Cam. Had he... done this on purpose?
“It was an accident,” he quickly added as if sensing my growing suspicions. “But I actually... like it. With you.”
Those blue eyes gazed down at me filled with tender affection. And unholy shit if that didn’t shoot cupid’s arrow straight through my worriedly fluttering heart. Our eyes locked and I stood there transfixed.
A throat being cleared made us both jolt free of our frozen, distracted states. When I looked over, Ash’s cheeks were slightly flushed. Likely at our obvious display of... whatever this new, blossoming thing between us was.
“Well, this has been adorable in the grossest but sweetest way. I’m rooting for you two,” he said, back to cheerful. He glanced over our shoulders to the new customers who had just popped into the line behind us. “It was nice seeing you again, Vic. And good to meet you too, Cam.”
With that, we grabbed our drinks and muffins and headed for one of the outside tables beneath the awning. After Cam had finished his muffin and I was halfway through my own, I blurted,
“Me too.”
Cam paused, his coffee halfway to his lips. “Huh?”
Oh geeze, my face was on fire. I gripped the warm paper cup between my hands, the handcuff chain laying across the small table connecting us.
“I like it too. Being stuck together... with you.”