3
Sasha
I should probably eat something too. My stomach has been growling at me since lunchtime, but right now, caffeine outranks food by a mile. It’s fine though, I’ll just grab some take out on my way home.
Opening the door to Buttons and Books, the heavy aroma of fresh coffee hangs thick in the air, mingling with the scent of sweet baked goods. I am so in love with this coffee shop.
I have lived in Florida for almost five years now, and it wasn’t until Olivia showed me this place last year that I even knew it existed. I was seriously missing out. I swear, this place is like my second home at this point.
One deep inhale in this place was enough to kick start my brain back into focus after a long grueling day of mind-numbing tasks, endless phone calls, and having to listen to Larry’s nasally voice booming through the walls.
There was one point where I had to print the same document nine times because I kept getting it wrong.
Nine! My boss had emailed me the document and all I had to do was hit ‘print’.
Every copy came out the exact same way, but apparently they were all wrong until Larry decided to just do it himself and guess what… his copy was perfect. Asswipe.
And this is exactly why I need to go shopping. Shopping requires zero brain power. I can just switch off my mind and let my eyes and credit card do all the work. It’s magical.
“Hey, Charlie.” I greeted as I wandered up to the counter. “Can I just get my usual please?”
“Of course!” She beams at me, already reaching for the cup.
I have never seen this woman without a smile on her face.
Her and her brother are very different that way.
She’s always smiling but Josh looks like he constantly wants to punch something.
Unless he’s looking at Olivia or their daughter, Isabella. Then he turns into a big teddy bear.
Charlie moves effortlessly around the space behind the counter, not needing any thought about what she’s doing.
She’s been working here since the place opened six years ago.
At first, she was only helping out to save up some money, but when her aunt, Diane, who owns the place decided to add a bakery to the space, working here full-time just made sense, since that’s Charlie’s specialty. And she’s damn good at it.
“No Dee today?” I ask, filling the silence.
“She’s over there,” Charlie nods to the back of the room, “She’s talking to one of Josh’s friends.”
I follow her gaze and immediately wish I hadn’t. Ocean blue eyes meet mine from across the room.
Conor Matthews.
For a split second, everything around me disappears. The chatter around me fades into background noise. The clinking of mugs, the hissing of the coffee machine, even my own thoughts seem to stall as those impossible blue eyes lock onto mine.
He stands, leans down to kiss Diane’s temple and then makes his way towards me, each step sending my pulse climbing higher. By the time he reaches me, I’m convinced my face has turned bright red. Damn you for deciding today was a makeup free one.
“Sasha.” He says, his mouth curving into that infuriating, confident grin. The one he somehow makes look both cocky and ridiculously handsome.
“Conor.” I reply, trying desperately to appear unaffected by him and the familiar smell of him that haunts my dreams. Cliche, I know, but he smells like sandalwood or pine or something outdoorsy like that.
I don’t really know the difference. Whatever it is, my brain has apparently committed it to memory.
It’s been nine months since I kissed this man. Nine months! And it had lasted, what… two seconds? Three tops. But it was long enough to make me forget how to breathe. Long enough to make me feel more with him than I ever felt with Max.
I can still feel his lips on mine when I close my eyes. I can still feel the hardness of his chest as my body was pressed against his. I can still feel his muscly arms wrapped around me, holding me tight and not wanting to let go. When I go to bed at night, I can still feel his growing erec-
“You good?” Conor's question brings me out of my thoughts, the raging inferno inside my body lighting up my skin.
He knows exactly where my head has just gone. And by the heat in his dilated pupils, I know his head went to the same place.
I held his gaze, refusing to answer. I don’t trust myself to speak right now. I’m sure the huskiness in my voice will give away how turned on I am right now just at the reminder of him.
“Sasha!” Charlie calls, breaking the staring contest happening right in front of her. I clear my throat, reaching into my bag for my purse.
“I’ve got it.” Before I can protest, Conor is pulling a few notes out of his wallet, handing them over the counter to Charlie and grabbing my coffee, offering it to me.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” His smile is softer this time and more dangerous than his panty melting grin. “So, where are you headed?” He asks as we step into the warm heat of the Florida sun.
“Shopping.” I take a long drink of my coffee, welcoming the icy feeling running down my dry throat.
“Perfect!”
I frowned up at him, “And why is that?”
“I’ll come with you.”
I stop dead in the middle of the sidewalk. “Why?” I eye him suspiciously. We haven’t spoken properly in months. Sure, we’ve seen each other at games or at Liv and Josh’s place, but we’ve never hung out, just the two of us. Not since…
“I wanna get Bella a gift. Maybe something for Olliepop too.” He says with an innocent shrug.
“But I wouldn’t even know where to start.
You can help me.” His smile momentarily clouds my vision and before I get a chance to respond, he hooks his arm through mine, pulling me down the street towards the stores.
“You’re very pushy, you know.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
I don’t doubt that.
“Do you think Olliepop would like this?” Conor asks me, holding up the ugliest vase I have ever seen. It’s shaped like an abstract swan. Or possibly a melted teapot. Honestly, I’m not sure.
I stare at the vase and then at him. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on. It has character.”
“It has trauma.” I deadpan and Conor laughs, gently placing it back on the shelf where it belongs. Well actually, I think it would be better suited to a dumpster.
“Why do you want to get her something anyway?” I ask as we continue down the aisle.
He looks at me like I’ve just asked the most stupid question imaginable. “Because she just pushed a human out of her vagina. That deserves a gift.”
I cringe at his unnecessary words, “What is wrong with you?” He blinks down at me, confused. “Do you not have a filter between your brain and your mouth?”
For the briefest moment, Conor’s smile disappears. Embarrassment flickers across his face before his usual grin slips back into place. “Sorry, Angel. The brain to mouth filter has now been activated.”
I roll my eyes at his sad attempt at a joke. It was a terrible joke. Awful. And that makes it even more irritating that I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from smiling. “Just come on.” I say, nudging his shoulder and walking out of the shop doors.
We wandered through shop after shop for what felt like hours and neither of us bought a single thing.
By the time we’d circled the mall for what had to be the fifth time, my feet were screaming in protest inside my work heels and my stomach had progressed from quietly grumbling to plotting my murder.
“You hungry?” Conor asks, his gaze trained on where I’m absent-mindedly rubbing my stomach.
“A little.”
“Wanna get dinner?”
I gape at him, before quickly schooling my features. “What, like a date?”
The corner of Conor’s mouth lifts in amusement. “If you want it to be a date, then it’s a date.”
I want to say yes. My mind is screaming at me to say yes. But I can’t. I like Conor, more than I care to admit, but I’m still not over everything that has happened with Max. It wouldn’t be fair to start something to someone when half of my heart was still healing from the last person who broke it.
“Yes to dinner.” I eventually tell him. “But it’s not a date. Perfectly platonic.”
“Platonic, huh? I suppose I can settle with that,” he says, that cheeky grin back on his face, making butterflies erupt in my stomach. “For now.”
I ignore his comment, changing the subject so he can’t see how much he affects me. My palms are sweaty and my heart rate has picked up its pace.
“You weren’t really gonna go shopping today, were you?” I ask him.
He laughs, a sheepish smile plastered on his face. “What gave me away?”
“Well, you barely looked at anything.”
“Fair.”
“And you have somehow picked out all the cutest outfits for Bella without my help.”
He chuckles again, the sound hitting me in the chest. “I suppose I do okay on my own.”
“Then why did you drag me around every store in Florida?”
His smile fades, his eyes momentarily clouding. “I needed a distraction.” I want to ask from what, but we’re not there yet. Whatever is weighing on him belongs to him until he decides otherwise.
“Did it work?” I ask, instead.
His eyes find mine, the sadness washing away with just one look. “Yeah, Angel. It worked.”
“This place is gorgeous.” I breathe out as the waitress leads us to a secluded table tucked into the back corner of the Italian restaurant. This place is definitely more romantic than two platonic friends needed, but I’m not complaining.
Soft amber lighting bathes the space, ivy wrapped candles flicker gently at every table casting them in a warm glow.
There are vines overhead, hanging from the dark vintage chandeliers, making the whole place feel cozy and intimate.
I feel very out of place in my dull work clothes.
I feel like I should be in some sort of ball gown or something.
The rich scent of garlic and fresh bread filters through from the kitchen, something I love but my stomach does not. Said stomach is practically applauding, knowing it’s about to be filled once again and with something other than cheap take out.