Chapter 5
“So how did it go?” Tessa asked.
Rhys’s throat tightened as anxiety overwhelmed him. “I should have offered to make him a drink, shouldn’t I?”
Tessa bit her lip. “That would have been great, but—”
“Why is this so hard?”
Tessa laid a hand on his arm. “You like him, don’t you?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m… I would be too much.”
“Rhys, you’re not too much for me or any of our other friends.”
“You’re used to me, and you…”
“We care. So it’s logical someone else could care, right?
“Caleb’s way too fun and sunshiny for me.”
Tessa sighed. “You’ve got time. Get to know him and see if you’re more comfortable.”
Rhys shook his head. “He asked if I wanted to work together on the drink for the Harvest Festival.”
“And what did you say?”
“I agreed to think about it, but… that’s not… I can’t do that. You know I don’t do group work.”
Tessa tilted her head to the side like she was thinking. “True, but I also know you like to win.”
“I like to win, but I want to do it honestly.”
She frowned. “Why would you think Caleb would do something dishonest?”
“I don’t. That’s not what I mean.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You mean you want to win your way.”
She was right, even if he hated how she put it. “Yes.”
“Actually think about working with him, okay?” Tessa squeezed his shoulder. “If you combined forces with his intuition and creativity and your scientific knowledge and precision—”
“I can be creative.”
“Of course you can, but Caleb has a knack for knowing what someone likes and how to get that taste. You come to that by measurement and analysis.”
Rhys forced himself to consider what she was saying. Caleb had known exactly how to make a drink he would like. He held his cup out to Tessa. “Here. Taste.”
She did, taking a moment to process the drink. “Not sweet enough.”
“For you, but for me, it was perfect.”
She smiled. “Exactly, and I don’t think this is even on the menu.”
Why did he feel like he’d just trapped himself? “Are you sure?”
“Yes, though he does have an option called Caleb’s Choice where he makes the drink he thinks you’ll like.”
Rhys shuddered. The thought of making up a drink right when someone walked in was horrifying. He needed things planned in advance.
“Just think about his offer.” She glanced at her phone. “I’d better get my coffee and get back to work. I left Finn on his own.”
“You want me to make you a coffee?”
“Of course. Isn’t that why I come by every morning?”
It was, and Rhys loved that her visit just before he opened was part of his morning routine. “You don’t want to get one at Cloud Nine instead?”
“No. I might stop by there later, but I want to start my day with the coffee you’ve perfected for me.”
Her statement helped ease some of the tension in Rhys’s body, and making a drink for her helped him feel even more settled. It was calming to do something he had control over. “Here you go.”
She accepted the paper cup from him and breathed deeply, taking in the rich scent. “Perfect.”
“Yes.”
She grinned. “I love that you own your coffee skills. Now, promise me you’ll think about what Caleb said.”
“I promise.” He didn’t think of much else all day, except when he was blissfully distracted by making coffee for his customers.
Business was always slow during the afternoon, but it seemed even worse than usual—probably thanks to Cloud Nine drawing all the customers. Rhys rested his chin on his hand and stared out the window, trying to imagine what it would be like to develop a drink with Caleb.
Working next to him at the counter. Brushing against his big body like when he’d caught Rhys the night before.
How would he concentrate with Caleb so close?
It had taken him ages to get comfortable with Sam being in the shop with him during morning rush, and they were quiet and calm and didn’t make him feel like he was all lit up and buzzing inside.
Caleb was all loud and talkative, and he’d ask questions and want to talk about things other than coffee. Rhys would have to remember how to talk while trying to measure and time things to make their entry perfect. No way could that work.
And he’d end up embarrassing himself. He hadn’t even thought to offer Caleb a drink after he brought one for Rhys.
That was just basic courtesy. There was no way in hell Rhys could work with him on a drink.
He would be a mess. The way things usually went when he was around Caleb, he’d probably break all their equipment.
He needed to let Caleb know his decision as soon as possible. Once he closed for the day, he’d take Caleb a drink and tell him they’d be better off making their own entries for the festival. He could do that. Probably.
Rhys tossed out two cups of coffee before he made one perfect enough to take to Caleb.
He made Caleb a latte with a lighter espresso roast than what Rhys preferred, and then he added a little sugar, topped it off with lots of wet foam, and sprinkled it with cinnamon and chocolate bits. He hoped he’d chosen right.
As he locked the door of Frost + Foam, his hands were shaking so hard he worried he might drop the cup.
As he walked down the street, he went over what he planned to say in his mind.
Somehow, he managed to get to the door of Cloud Nine without having to talk to anyone. At least something was going right.
When Rhys pushed on the door, it didn’t budge. Caleb had already locked up. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, then knocked, hoping Caleb hadn’t already gone upstairs to his apartment. He appeared from the back almost immediately and smiled when he saw Rhys.
“Am I bothering you?” Rhys asked when Caleb opened the door.
“No. Not at all. I’m just cleaning up.”
He held the drink out. “I brought you this.”
Caleb’s smile widened. “Thank you.” He was already tasting it before Rhys had a chance to tell him what it was.
He couldn’t help but stare at Caleb’s throat as he swallowed. Did he have to be so alluring? It was like everything he did was sexy. He groaned, and Rhys’s knees threatened to give out.
“That’s really good. You’re very talented.”
Rhys tried his best to say something in return, but all he managed to do was nod.
Caleb took another sip, and Rhys continued to watch.
“Sugar, cream, light espresso,” he said.
Rhys nodded again.
“The taste is so complex, but the ingredients are so simple.”
Rhys bit his lip to keep from giving a lecture on the importance of science-backed coffee making to bring out the best flavors without extra ingredients. “I like simple but good.”
Caleb smiled. “Did you think about the contest?”
Rhys knew he needed to answer, but he couldn’t get any words out.
He’d thought far too much about it, about what it would be like to work with Caleb, spending so much time together, having to make sure he didn’t act like an idiot or an asshole, having to compromise, to agree to put his name on a drink that wasn’t his creation.
It was too much, and yet he wished it weren’t.
He wanted to spend more time with Caleb, but he wasn’t sure how to do that and not freak out.
“You really don’t want to work with me. I’m not good at group projects or compromising. ”
Emotion showed in Caleb’s eyes, but Rhys wasn’t sure if it was disappointment or annoyance. Maybe both? Rhys wasn’t trying to upset him. He was trying to make it clear that he wasn’t any good at socializing. He didn’t do partnership well.
“All right,” Caleb said. “We’ll each make our own entries. It was just an idea.”
Rhys couldn’t make his lungs work right. The room started to spin, and he was afraid he might pass out. “Um… Enjoy the drink. I should… um… go.”
He turned and managed to make his way out the door without running.
He was glad things were quiet on Front Street at that time of day.
He wasn’t sure he could make it all the way to Frost + Foam, but Jonah’s bookstore was next door, so he went inside and sank into one of the comfy chairs Jonah had placed around the store.
Jonah was finishing up with a customer, but Rhys hadn’t noticed anyone else in the store.
He slipped his shoes off and pulled his legs up, curling into a ball in the soft chair.
He hoped no one had seen him. He didn’t want anyone to notice him while he took a few minutes to just breathe.
He heard the bell ring on the door and assumed that whoever had been checking out was leaving.
Rhys took several long, deep breaths, trying to steady himself. Moments passed, and the tightness in his chest began to loosen. It was only then that Jonah approached him. He loved that his friend knew he needed a few minutes before he’d be ready to talk.
“Are you okay?” Jonah asked.
Rhys blew out a long breath. “Probably.”
“What happened?”
“Caleb asked me to work with him to create a drink for the Harvest Festival.”
Jonah nodded. After a moment, he said, “That sounds like a good idea.”
“It might be, but…”
Jonah prompted him when he didn’t finish. “But?”
“I can’t do that.”
“You can’t give up control of your entry?” Jonah’s smile annoyed the hell out of Rhys. Sometimes it was great to have friends who really knew him, and sometimes he hated it.
“No. Yes. That’s not the main reason.”
“Then what is it?”
This was Jonah. Rhys could be honest with him.
Jonah wouldn’t judge him, but he still couldn’t explain that Caleb made him feel all fluttery and confused and distracted.
He couldn’t be in close quarters with him because he’d make a fool of himself, and Caleb would hate him.
“Caleb needs a chance to develop his own brand. He should have his own entry.”
Jonah narrowed his eyes. “That’s all?”
Rhys looked down at his hands as he nodded, certain Jonah didn’t believe him.
“What can I do to help?” Jonah asked.
“I don’t suppose you can figure out a way for me not to run into Caleb until after the festival?” Or maybe ever.
Jonah chuckled. “No, but I could taste test your drinks for you.”
Rhys smiled. “That would help.” Jonah truly appreciated good coffee. He regularly sent customers to Rhys’s shop.
“I can also recommend a book if you’d like something to read tonight to distract you.”
He would absolutely need a distraction. “Sure, that would be great.”
Jonah wandered off into the shelves and returned with a paperback. “Try this.”
Rhys took the book from him, immediately suspicious of the pink cover with artwork of two men on it. “Trapped with the Cowboy? Is this romance?”
Jonah shrugged. “Maybe.”
Rhys flipped the book over and read the summary. “Why would you pick this out for me? You know what I like to read.”
“I know you need something fresh and new to keep your mind off the festival. You need a challenge.”
Rhys shook his head. “The festival is enough of a challenge.”
“I think it’s more of a stressful event you feel compelled to participate in because you love Frostwick Harbor, even if the festival doesn’t matter to you so much.”
There he went again, knowing Rhys too well. “It’s always too crowded. And they’re predicting even more people this year.”
“You could just show up for the beverage contest.”
“I know, but I do enjoy hanging out with you and our other friends, and the food is always amazing.”
Jonah smiled. “We like having you there.”
Rhys read the blurb on the back of the book. The story was described as an opposites attract, forced proximity gay romance. The two main characters apparently got stuck in a cabin together. “Thanks, but this doesn’t sound right for me at all.”
He tried to hand it back to Jonah, but his friend refused to take it. “Try it. Challenge yourself.”
Jonah was playing dirty. He knew the one thing Rhys hated more than a crowd was not succeeding when challenged. It was almost as bad as gas station coffee.
“Fine, but I’m stopping after fifty pages if I don’t like it.” That was Rhys’s trial rule for any book.
“If you don’t like it after that, I’ll accept defeat.”
“Have you really never recommended a book I didn’t like?” Talk about being good at your job.
“Not yet.”
No way had he gotten it right this time. “We’ll see about this time. I need to go finish cleanup at the shop.”
“All right. Give me a report tomorrow.”
Something about the book made him nervous. “What if I want to spend the evening planning my festival entry?”
Jonah shook his head. “That’s the last thing you need to do tonight.”
Rhys sighed, knowing Jonah was right. Thinking about the festival meant thinking about Caleb, and he did not want to do that. As he walked to Frost + Foam, he hurried past Agnes and a few other people who clearly wanted more than a quick wave from him. He’d done all the talking he could that day.