Chapter 1 #2
Ryan and Lily said their goodbyes, with Lily giving Cooper another enthusiastic hug before bouncing toward the door. Ryan paused on his way out to give me a nod. “Good to see you, Jack.”
“See you around.” I lifted my mug in a small salute.
As the door closed behind them, Cooper braced both hands against the counter, head bowed. The shop was empty now except for me; Cooper’s faithful daytime employee, Jessica; and Mrs. Abernathy, who was absorbed in a book in the back corner.
The old floorboards creaked as Cooper approached my table, carrying a fresh mug of coffee I hadn’t ordered. The rich scent hit me before he even set it down—dark roast with a complex aroma.
“You’ve been nursing that same cup for an hour, Anderson. It must be as cold as my mother’s disapproving stare by now.” He placed the mug in front of me, steam curling invitingly from its surface.
I glanced up, meeting his moss-green eyes. A mistake. My chest tightened painfully.
“What makes you think I need more caffeine?” I placed my phone on the table, having done what work I could on it. I needed to head back to my apartment and my secure network. “I could be perfectly content with my cold, sad coffee.”
“Your left eye twitches when you’re under-caffeinated.” Cooper tapped the side of his own eye. “Dead giveaway. You’ve got that ‘I’ve been staring at the screen for too long’ look.”
The fact that he noticed these things about me sent a dangerous surge of hope through my system. Hope was like a shot of adrenaline: temporary and always leaving you worse off when it faded.
“My hero,” I said, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. “What’s this one?”
“Ethiopian Yirgacheffe. Just came in yesterday.” Cooper leaned a hip against my table, crossing his arms over his chest. His black apron with the Coffee Cove logo—a simple wave inside a coffee cup—stretched across his chest. He’d pulled up the sleeves of his Henley, revealing forearms dusted with dark hair.
“Thought you might need something special. You’ve been working too hard. ”
My heart stuttered. He noticed. Of course he noticed—Cooper was attuned to everyone’s needs. It was what made him such a good coffee shop owner. It didn’t mean anything special. To him, I was simply his best friend.
No matter how much I wanted to be more.
I took a sip of the coffee. The flavor bloomed across my tongue: robust, with a hint of chocolate and… I hummed. Fruit. I closed my eyes briefly, savoring it. “Damn, Coop. This is good.”
“So I’m right—as usual,” he said with a warm smile. “The eye twitch is gone already.”
“Yeah, yeah. Add ‘Cooper’s Always Right’ to your wall of fame.” I gestured to the wall and then frowned. A red flyer hung beside Lily’s latest drawing. “What’s that red flyer about?”
Cooper groaned. “Don’t remind me. The downtown business association is riding me about my participation in the Valentine’s Day Ocean of Love celebration. Apparently, a white cup with a red heart isn’t ‘festive enough’ for Isabelle’s standards.”
“The horror. How dare you not plaster everything in glitter and cupids?” I grinned at his obvious reluctance. He’d just breathed a sigh of relief ten days ago when he’d packed away the winter holiday decorations.
“You laugh, but wait until you see what Mason does to the bookstore. Last year, he covered the entire front window in paper hearts with book quotes about love. He’ll probably rope you into helping since you live upstairs.”
“Already promised to hang fairy lights.” I grinned. “I’m a sucker for Mason’s sad puppy eyes.”
Cooper snorted. “You’re a sucker, period. Too nice for your own good.”
If only he knew. I’d spent my entire friendship with Cooper being “nice”—swallowing my feelings, pretending friendship was enough, keeping my longing locked down behind a firewall.
My heart had shattered one night during a senior year party as Cooper drowned his sorrows after yet another failed relationship. I’d foolishly let hope bloom, thinking perhaps he might finally see me.
Then, those crushing words had drifted to me, slicing through the music and laughter.
“You and Jack should get together,” Dan said, his voice light with casual matchmaking.
“Hook up with my best friend?” Cooper’s slurred words tumbled out, his eyes unfocused as amber liquid sloshed over his red cup’s rim. “That would be…” His voice firmed with certainty. “Weird.”
Even now, years later, that memory twisted like a knife in my gut, the acid taste of rejection rising in my throat as vivid as the night it happened.
“So…Ryan,” Cooper said.
I mentally shook my head and tuned back into our conversation.
Cooper’s expression had turned more serious, the light in his eyes dimming.
I frowned, unease slithering through me. “Everything okay?”
He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. “He wants me to go to his birthday dinner next Friday. My parents will be there.”
“Ah.” I knew how much weight was packed into those few words. “You going?”
“Told him I would. For him and Lily.” Cooper shook his head. “I shouldn’t have agreed, but he played the niece card. Said Lily’s been asking why Uncle Cooper never comes to family dinners.”
I winced. “Low blow.”
“Yeah.” Resignation tinged Cooper’s smile. “It’s not that I don’t want to see Ryan and Lily. It’s just…”
“Your parents,” I finished for him.
He nodded. “They haven’t exactly embraced my ‘lifestyle choice,’ as my mother calls it. They tolerate me because of Ryan, but dinners tend to be coldly polite at best.”
My hand twitched with the urge to reach out and comfort him. Instead, I wrapped it more firmly around my coffee mug. “That sucks.”
“It is what it is.” Cooper shrugged, but the casual gesture couldn’t mask the hurt in his eyes. “Anyway, enough about my family drama. How’s work?”
I recognized the deflection but didn’t push. Cooper had always been private about his emotions, even with me. “I need to get to it. But I really should look at your system more carefully. That crash wasn’t normal.”
Cooper frowned. “You think something’s wrong? Beyond a technical glitch?”
I hesitated, not wanting to alarm him needlessly.
“Let’s try not to worry until we know for sure.
” What I didn’t tell him was that I’d recognized signs of a deliberate attack in the code—not the random malware most small businesses occasionally encountered, but something targeted and elaborate.
Someone with serious skills had accessed his system, and I needed to find out who and why.
“I’ll stop by after you close tonight and bring dinner. I’ll look into it then.”
He nodded, but concern creased his forehead.
I took another sip of the excellent coffee. “Thanks for this, by the way. It’s exactly what I needed.”
A customer entered, the bell above the door announcing their arrival. Cooper straightened. Duty called. “Enjoy the coffee. It’s on the house.”
“You’ll go out of business giving me free coffee.”
Cooper walked backward a few steps, and that warm smile made another appearance. “Your payment for getting my POS back online.”
“That took me about ten minutes.”
“Then you’re vastly undercharging for your services, mister tech wizard.” He turned away and greeted the customer with the same friendliness he showed everyone.
I watched him go and allowed myself five seconds of unfiltered longing before I pocketed my phone.
Five seconds to imagine a different reality where I had the courage to tell Cooper McKay that I’d moved to be near him.
Every morning in this coffee shop was both heaven and hell—being close to him, but never close enough.
The truth was, moving to Seacliff Cove had been both the best and worst decision of my life. Best because I got to see Cooper nearly every day. Worst because seeing him every day was a constant reminder of everything I couldn’t have.
I glanced at Cooper once more, now engaged in friendly conversation with the customer.
His genuine interest in people was one of the many things I loved about him.
The way he remembered everyone’s drink preferences.
The way his whole face lit up when he talked about a new coffee bean he’d discovered.
The way he’d stayed until midnight helping me move into my apartment even though he’d had to open the shop at six.
My phone buzzed with a text. I looked down to see a message from Cooper, despite being only twenty feet away.
Thanks for listening. Means a lot.
I smiled and typed back.
Always here if you need to vent. Or if you need a human shield at that dinner.
Cooper read the message from behind the counter and shot me a grateful look. I held his gaze for a moment and tried to communicate without words that I meant it. I’d be there for him in whatever capacity he needed, even if it meant sitting through an awkward dinner with his disapproving parents.
Because that’s what you did when you loved someone: you showed up, even when it was hard. Even when they didn’t love you back the same way. Even when friendship was all you’d ever have.
Outside the tall windows, Seacliff Cove’s main street bustled with Monday morning activity.
The town had welcomed me easily, folding me into its rhythms as if I’d always belonged here.
My apartment above the bookstore next door had slowly transformed from a temporary landing place to something that felt like home.
I took a last sip of the exceptional coffee and returned the mug to the counter. Cyber threats wouldn’t fix themselves, and I had clients depending on me.
But even as I left, part of me remained hyperaware of Cooper moving through his domain, creating moments of connection over cups of coffee, one person at a time.
And I wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like if he ever looked at me and saw more than just his best friend from college.
Maybe someday I’d gather enough courage to find out. But for now, I stayed in my safe corner, loving him silently from the distance of a coffee shop table, collecting small moments, knowing they’d never add up to what I really wanted but treasuring them all the same.