Chapter 4
Author’s Note:
You’ll never guess where I wrote this chapter.
It actually wasn’t a coffee shop, that’s why you’ll probably never guess.
Milo
This was embarrassing.
Milo wasn’t usually the kind of person who got embarrassed, but truly, this was shameful.
“He’s not here, Ray,” Milo said, sending an email with one hand, sipping his latte with the other, all while holding his phone between his shoulder and cheek.
“Troy said they come here every Wednesday, and I’ve been camped out here for three hours, and there’s no sign of either of them.
He also hasn’t texted, and trust me, I’ve checked. ”
It was sweet, really, that Ray had tried to play matchmaker, but just like all the times Anabelle had done it with “Joe’s sweet grandson” or “Monique’s nephew’s roommate” things never seemed to work out for Milo.
His pony hung his head. Milo really didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but his pony had been pining for the past week.
Milo had been planning to go over to Rowan and ask for his number, but then Ethel’s care coordinator had called to complain about yet another prank she’d pulled.
Milo had wandered around downtown for an hour, commiserating with the harried woman on the phone about how much of a “joyful handful” Ethel was.
Truly, Ray was sweeter than Anabelle’s famous snickerdoodles for wingmanning Milo; it just wasn’t meant to be.
Like Milo ever getting to taste Anabelle’s snickerdoodles again.
Ray was still talking in Milo’s ear, and he tuned back in to hear him say, “They could both just be hung up with something in the office, and that’s why neither of them is there. If Rowan was avoiding you, Troy would probably have come on his own.”
“Would you have come without me if I was avoiding someone?” Milo asked, opening yet another email he needed to respond to.
He’d actually gotten more work done today than all week since he wanted to prove to himself—and his very lenient boss—that he had, in fact, needed to sit in a coffee shop for three hours today to “regain his office mojo.” Milo sipped at his drink and answered three more emails as Ray debated with himself whether he would go to the coffee shop without Milo
Ray was just wrapping up his thesis—that if Milo decided they could never go back to this coffee shop because it had been tainted by the ginger giant, Ray would research coffee shops near their office, and they’d try each one until they found a new favorite—when Milo’s phone vibrated against his face.
He somehow managed to drop his phone and his nearly empty coffee cup while also knocking his laptop off the table.
Several concerned and a few skeptical eyes turned his way, but Milo ignored them just like he’d ignored the looks he’d gotten when he’d come in wearing a sequined maxi dress in quite possibly the loudest color orange to ever exist. Anabelle had loved loud colors, and while it worked on her, it often overwhelmed Milo’s gray eyes and pale blonde hair.
That hadn’t stopped him from buying every item she’d ever suggested for him, regardless of color, fashion, era, or gender.
Besides, the barista had complimented the way the dress made his arms look, so he didn’t care what a bunch of strangers thought.
And if the orange had reminded him of Rowan’s hair, and he and his pony had specifically picked it out to wear to run into him at the coffee shop today, who could blame them?
Okay, maybe Milo had the teeniest of tiny crushes on Rowan. Or, at the very least, a friend crush. He’d felt just like this after meeting Ray, and that had turned out great. They were best friends forever, with the matching necklaces to prove it.
Said necklace was currently swinging wildly from Milo’s neck as he ducked under the table to collect his phone, laptop, and coffee cup, which somehow hadn’t spilled more than a few drops.
“Uhm…hello?” Ray’s voice sounded from the phone, and Milo shoved it back into place on his shoulder.
“Sorry, my phone vibrated, and I freaked out and threw my things all over the place.”
He accidentally made eye contact with the woman sitting across from him, and he mouthed, “Sorry,” to which she responded by smirking and tapping a long, green fingernail against her over-ear headphones. He gave her his campiest salute before downing the rest of his coffee and closing his laptop.
“Why did your phone vibrate?” Ray asked as Milo shoved his laptop into his backpack.
“Well, you see my dear, modern technology has provided us with the means to be notified whenever someone wants to get our attention, whether it be a person, a company, or the news, and most of us haven’t had our phone volume turned on in fifteen years, so instead, the phone vibrates to—”
“Milo,” Ray said, and Milo could picture the way Ray’s fingers were probably pressing into the bridge of his nose.
“I haven’t had the chance to check yet, since I was too busy retrieving my belongings and fleeing the premises.”
“Well, check on your way back in, and I’ll meet you at the coffee maker, because it’s my turn to be caffeinated.”
“Oh, I can just get you one,” Milo said, popping out of his seat, backpack in hand, to hurry up to the counter. “One large, boring macchiato coming up,” he said, and the barista smiled and shook her head affectionately at him.
“You really don’t—” Ray began.
“Camilla is already ringing me up, and you’d look like quite the asshole to rescind your order now.”
Ray’s sigh must have been audible outside the phone because Camilla laughed loudly as she motioned for Milo to swipe his card.
“I’ll see you in a few,” Ray said and hung up.
Milo probably should have checked his phone while he waited for Ray’s drink, but he got distracted scanning every new business-y looking person who walked in the door.
It wasn’t until he reached the lobby of his office building that his phone vibrated a second time.
Either he was incredibly popular today, or the initial vibration had been a text, and this was the reminder ping.
The coffee in his stomach sloshed around the three scones he’d had—which were nowhere near as good as Anabelle’s but light years better than anything Milo and Ethel combined could make. His pony pawed at the ground in excitement, but all that did was make Milo’s stomach roll harder.
He would just ask Ray to check the message when he got upstairs.
It probably wasn’t Rowan, anyway. More than likely, it was someone texting to ask him about his car’s extended warranty…
which was actually a good question. Did Anabelle’s old junker, which he was still driving around in, have an extended warranty?
It would be great if it did, since just yesterday the glove compartment had fallen clear off the dashboard.
He reached for his phone—because yes, this dress did in fact have pockets—to Google warranties but then remembered he was avoiding reading his messages.
Milo sighed loudly, garnering him a side eye from the large alpha shifter already standing in the elevator.
Milo ignored him and jabbed his pointer finger on the 7 button.
The doors closed, enveloping the elevator in the cloying scent of butterscotch.
It wasn’t a bad smell, it was just strong, like most alpha scents.
Usually, his beta sense of smell could barely pick up a shifter’s scent, but ever since smelling Rowan, it was like he and his pony were hyper aware of other people’s smells… and how they all sucked in comparison.
Rowan smelled like that time Milo and Anabelle had hiked to the top of a mountain to see the sunrise.
They’d gotten a late start because Anabelle was almost always late for everything, and Milo had gotten distracted along the trail, and they’d needed to run the last half mile to beat the sun.
They’d emerged at the top of the mountain to see the sun just beginning to peak over the horizon, and that first gasp of fresh, newly sun-tinged air had tasted like victory and smelled like he’d worked long and hard to get there and was getting exactly what he deserved for it.
It was such a rare feeling in Milo’s life, given that almost nothing ever worked out the way he’d hoped, that he still remembered it quite clearly.
Maybe that was why it had been so easy to smell Rowan.
His scent had clung to Milo’s backpack all week, almost like a little reminder that Milo had left Rowan’s side not once, but twice, without securing his phone number.
Milo debated reaching for his phone again, but instead he pulled his backpack up to his nose and gave it a long, desperate sniff.
The doors to the elevator opened, and the alpha scurried out, casting Milo a concerned glance over his shoulder right as the doors closed again.
Milo’s pony nickered, and Milo allowed himself a nice chuckle, which carried him up to the seventh floor and all the way to the coffee maker closest to Ray’s desk.
“You look happy. Did he text?” Ray asked, accepting his coffee with eager hands.
“Oh, I was just laughing because some alpha on the fifth floor now thinks I have a thing for smelling backpacks,” Milo said, shoving his hand in his pocket to pull out his phone. “Can you check what the message says? I don’t think I have it in me to be disappointed twice in one day.”
Ray took a long sip of his gross coffee before accepting Milo’s phone and typing in his passcode. It was Anabelle’s birthday, and it made Milo’s heart stutter every time Ray remembered it.
“Alright, let’s see… It’s a text from an unknown number.”
Milo’s pony tossed his head, his mane flying out around him. Ray swiped across the phone, and Milo stared at his eyes, as if he could read the reflection of the phone in them. He couldn’t, of course, but he did see the exact moment they lit up.
“It is Rowan! He said sorry that he missed you yesterday, but—”
“Yesterday?” Milo said, snatching his phone back as his churning stomach and whinnying pony won out.
“Yeah, it seems like he tried to catch us at the cafe yesterday, but we weren’t there.”