7. Reed
reed
It doesn’t happen often, but I might have been overly optimistic when I told Rose that letting people think we’re dating wouldn’t be a problem. I’m pretty sure you have to know how to fool people to pull off something like that, and she just doesn’t have the gene for it.
I’m working the front counter at Perk Me Up with Troy when Rose arrives for her shift.
She slips into the back to put her things away and pull on an apron, and joins us a minute later.
She waves at Troy but turns to me, smiling extra wide.
A beat passes, and she rolls on the balls of her feet as if she’s waiting for something.
“Hey…you.” She slow-motion punches me in the shoulder.
A totally natural girlfriend greeting.
Luckily, nobody in here right now seems to be paying attention to us.
If Troy’s heard anything, he hasn’t mentioned it.
Maybe town gossip won’t be much of a factor in this.
I’d be relieved, except my family knowing is complication enough to match a whole metropolis full of busybodies.
My phone hasn’t stopped vibrating with messages.
Mostly of the “I can’t believe this is happening” genre.
“Did you have a good night?” She aims a finger gun at me.
Please tell me this isn’t how she flirts.
“Rose.” It’s a plea as much as a warning. She doesn’t need to play up the romance angle between us while we’re in the coffee shop.
Although, if that was her version of “romance,” we have a lot to work on.
“Reed,” she scolds back. Of course, with her, there’s no threat to it. Just my name on her lips. That alone is enough to unravel knots of tension that were pulled tight inside my chest. She gazes up at me expectantly.
If she thinks it’s my turn to flash finger guns or recite a cheesy pick-up line, she’ll go on waiting. Cheese isn’t my style. I prefer being direct about what I want. It just so happens I’ve spent over a year telling myself I can’t have what I want.
And if I got it, soon enough, I’d find a way to lose it again.
Naturally, Rose doesn’t mind our staring contest. She thinks my glowers are funny. The longer our gazes stay locked, the more her expression brightens, until finally her mouth tips up, revealing her dimple.
That intriguing little divot calls to me in the worst way. What would it feel like beneath my fingertips? Beneath my lips?
“Reed said the coffee cart was a big success.” Troy interrupts my dimple-admiration, moving over to form a triangle with Rose and me.
“Big success, huh?” Her smile takes on a hint of smug satisfaction.
It looks good on her. Anything would.
“I said it was a success.” And obviously, that was too much to reveal to Mr. Chatty over here.
“Biggest success ever, and you’re grateful for the visionary who encouraged you to do it?” she prompts.
“You’re pushing it.” But there’s no bite to my words. Probably why she grins as if I really did praise her the way she deserves.
“I won’t be able to make it until the end of the summer.” Troy rakes a hand through his bleached platinum hair and adjusts the black Perk Me Up baseball cap he wears every day. “Hopefully they save the best bands for last.”
“That would explain a lot if they are,” I grumble.
“Don’t pay attention to him,” Rose tells Troy. “I had the best time last night.”
She must remember what else she’s calling “the best time” because her smile falters and winks out, depriving me of her dimple.
“I mean, it was surprising. Unexpected but…nice.” Her lips twist like she’s taste-testing various sour candies. “It was good. And fun. I had a nice time.”
Good and fun and nice. Exactly how I want her to describe agreeing to date me.
Pretend to date me. Can’t forget that key word.
“I’m going to put in the orders for next week.” I stalk into the back before she can find more bland descriptors to slap over last night’s events.
Because she has no idea I’m trying to escape her, Rose follows me. I turn around, and she’s so close she could be standing on my toes. The shot of adrenaline that races through my system at her nearness is supremely unhelpful.
“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispers. “Should we pretend to be more…you know?”
I do know. I’ve contemplated you know with Rose approximately eleven of the last twelve hours. I have no problem imagining us being more you know. It’s the little pretend tag that’s tripped me up every time.
“We don’t need to do anything.” I don’t want this to turn into any kind of obligation for her, even if she technically instigated it. Having her feel she has to do anything affectionate with me would be worse than finding out she named her grouchy cat after me.
“I know, but if we were dating, wouldn’t we…” Her gaze dips to my mouth, making my stomach drop like the ground fell out from beneath my feet. “Be obvious about it?”
Yes. If I were really dating Rose, everyone in town would get sick of just how obvious I would be.
Given the green light, I would never stop touching her.
I would hold her so much, I’d have to hire two baristas to replace her because she wouldn’t be able to get any work done.
Nobody would question if we were together because they’d all be too busy telling us to get a room.
Obvious would not be a problem.
“We don’t need to put on a show,” I tell her instead. “Nobody’s coming in here to see us as a couple.”
Until my family members turn up, which they most certainly will. Jovie’s the most excited to spend more time with her. She’s been texting all morning, asking about Rose.
Her questions are mostly of the ten-year-old variety. What’s Rose’s favorite color? What’s her favorite dessert? Who is her favorite Marvel character?
I only know the answer to one of those. It’s yellow.
“Just do whatever you naturally would,” I tell her.
“Okay. Then I will just act normal.” She slow-punches me again. “Boyfriend.” She adds a salute right before she ducks out of the office.
I sit at the desk and tab through folders on the computer, fighting the stupid smile that wants to overtake my face. I thought she can’t fool people, but maybe I can’t, either. Not when she’s so light-hearted and ridiculous and everything sweet and good.
Rather than test just how normal she’ll act when we’re pretending to date, I take the coward’s way out and work in the back most of the day.
Conversation drifting from the front becomes ambient chatter while I enter information into spreadsheets and order supplies.
I like routine, but this mundane desk work numbs my brain like Novocaine.
I prefer being outdoors and building things, but I can’t very well quit my job and run away to live in the forest.
Technically, I already have. It hasn’t helped.
After the lunchtime rush dies down, Troy’s voice cuts through the monotony of order forms.
“I know it’s last minute,” he says to Rose. “But can you trade shifts tomorrow? Brendan and I want to head out early to go camping. It’s first-come, first-served, and if I close, the campground will be full before we get there.”
I turn to hear them better even though I already know what she’s going to say. She’ll tell him the same thing she always does. Troy is a good guy and a reliable worker, but he’ll take whatever slack Rose gives him. And if I know her, she’s about to give him everything he asks for.
Schedule changes are one more item on a list of things I don’t want to micromanage in the coffee shop.
I’ve left it up to them to sort out their plans when conflicts arise.
Doctors appointments, illnesses, whatever—don’t involve me if you don’t have to.
But when Troy whips out his sad eyes and begs Rose to switch shifts so he can do something fun, I get twitchy.
To be fair, I don’t know that he’s deployed the sad eyes. He’s never asked her to switch shifts in front of me. Which proves he knows he’s treading on her good nature, however agreeable she is about it.
When does she ever switch shifts just so she can do something fun? I can’t think of a single time, and that grates on me.
“I’m happy to switch,” she tells him.
“You’re the best, Rose.”
She is. That’s why this situation irritates like a burr pricking at my skin.
I’m still steaming about it when Troy comes into the back to grab his things.
He pulls up his phone, probably to clock out on the shop’s timeclock app.
Another innovation Rose suggested that’s made this place run more smoothly.
Even if I personally miss the satisfaction of punching a paper time card.
“See you later, Reed.”
I lift a hand in acknowledgement as he leaves for the day.
I need to squash the low-level anger simmering in my stomach.
He’s a good guy. I wouldn’t keep him on if he wasn’t.
It’s not my problem that Rose switches shifts with him more often than I think she should.
I don’t want to solve my employees’ issues and can’t start trying now. It’s not my business.
“Rose!” a voice calls out front. “This is lucky.”
I sigh as if hefting out all the air from my lungs will save me. That is my business.
I’m out of the office and behind the counter before I’ve fully had the thought to walk out here. I might not want to micromanage my employees, but I have no qualms about micromanaging my sister.
Lucy’s face lights up when she spots me. “You’ve been keeping secrets.”
I scan the coffee shop. Thankfully, most of the tables are empty. At least Lucy saved today’s meddling for near closing time. If she’d showed up during a rush, I would have had to kick her out. Might still have to, depending on how this goes.
Her exaggerated frown is more pout than anger. “Why didn’t you tell me you two were dating?”
“The same reason I usually don’t tell you things.”
“It would have saved me all the effort of trying to get you a date with someone else.” She turns to Rose. “Not that I would dream of that now that I know you’re together. I’m a girls’ girl all the way.”
Rose nods as if this declaration makes sense to her. What does that mean? Am I a boys’ boy?
“I always got a vibe between you two.” Lucy runs a finger in a figure-eight in the air to encompass us. She jabs it my direction. “Must be all those longing looks.”
I won’t give her the satisfaction of reacting to that. I keep my pining stares reserved for when nobody’s watching. I’m not a complete fool.
“Are you going to order something, or are you here to waste our time?” I ask.
Rose laughs but gently moves me to the side. “Be nice.”
“I approve of this.” Lucy’s huge grin makes that obvious. “Keep him in line. How long have you been hiding this?”
“Oh, you know.” Rose looks at me over her shoulder, but I don’t have the answers she’s searching for. This is her rodeo. I just agreed to let it happen. “It’s pretty new.”
“What a way to hard launch your relationship, huh?”
“Nathan could have let it sit for a day or two, at least.” Luke would have kept it to himself. But Nathan’s not built for secrets. Although, I suppose Jovie is the one who technically told everyone. But once she knew, I might as well have handed her a megaphone.
“Yeah, but—” Lucy looks from me to Rose and back. “You don’t know?”
Rose and I share a glance, but whatever my sister’s hinting at is lost on us.
Lucy’s slow grin makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I imagine this is how a gazelle feels when it realizes it needs to run, but the lion’s already mid-pounce. “Have you checked Perk Me Up’s socials today?”
Rose shakes her head. “I shared a few things last night at the concert, but not since.”
“You might want to do that.”
She looks to me, but I just hitch my shoulders.
I’m not following any of this. She goes into the back to retrieve her phone.
Apparently, her dress of the day doesn’t have pockets.
Meanwhile, Lucy grins like a cat that’s got a whole canary stuffed in its mouth.
She’s savoring something forbidden but delicious, and that delight pours more dread into my gut.
Rose comes back out, pulling up the shop’s socials on her phone. “Oh. There’s a bunch of notifications here.” She flicks her finger on the screen, a line furrowing between her eyebrows the longer she does. “That’s a lot of tags. What is—?”
Some pop song plays through her phone while she watches a video. Her cheeks bloom pink, her lips rolling between her teeth. “That’s, um. You should probably see this.”
She passes her phone over, and it takes me a minute to figure out what I’m seeing. It’s a video of us from last night at the concert. Rose is pulling espressos, swaying to the music, and talking with a customer through a bright smile. A normal day at work for her.
Except there I am next to her, staring at her with a dazed look in my eyes like I’ve been hit upside the head. I’ve got a half-smile on my face, and it’s obvious I’m ignoring the person at the front of the line. I’m way too distracted by her to pay attention to anyone else.
The text over the video says, “Get yourself a man who looks at you the way this guy looks at his barista.”
So. I don’t keep my pining stares confined to when nobody’s around.