But today is not that day.
two
“Medium iced latte.”
I grin happily and nod, stepping forward and taking the clear plastic cup as the barista, Ruby, sets it on the counter. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Amy. Have a good day,” she replies, already busy making the next person’s drink.
“You too!” I wave with my coffee cup, grinning as I take the first pull on the straw, and head towards the door. It’s my first coffee of the day, and it tastes like heaven. Iced coffee is my weakness; I can’t resist it, so I usually make an early morning stop on my way to work to get one.
Just as I step out the door, I stop as someone’s dog yips at my heels. He’s been tied up outside while his owner gets their own caffeine fix.
I smile down at it, reaching down a hand to stroke its furry little head and scratch it behind the ear. “Well, aren’t you a beautiful little fur baby!”
Okay, so maybe dogs are my weakness too. But in my defence, have you seen dogs?
I force myself to stand and leave the pup alone because I need to get to work. As soon as I’m back on my feet, something solid—or rather, someone solid walks smack into me at full force. I don’t have time to react as my precious coffee cup slams against my chest, the lid popping off. I feel the shock of cold as the liquid bursts upwards; wet seeps into my white shirt and sloshes up my neck. Ice cubes skitter to the floor with a chink and a splash, and I blink in shock.
“Whoa! Oh shit!” a guy exclaims.
As the force of the collision propels me backwards, hands grip my upper arms, stopping me from crashing into the little metal table behind me. The cute little dog at my feet yelps and runs away a couple of steps, so he doesn’t get trampled.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” the guy asks, his hands still firmly gripping my arms.
I blink again, my mouth popping open in shock as I register the fact that over half a cup of liquid just exploded over me. I look down at the floor, seeing his phone lying in a puddle of coffee and that the dog is now back, lapping at the liquid with gusto.
I blow out a big breath, my shock now receding. “I’m okay,” I mutter, stepping back and flicking droplets from my fingers.
“I was on my phone. I wasn’t watching. This was totally my fault. I’m so sorry.” His voice is apologetic.
I shrug, a smile now creeping up onto my lips as a chuckle bubbles in my throat.
Stuff like this happens to me all the time. Heather calls me her “liability mate”—the one who trips over the plugged-in phone charger or drops her ice cream and has to buy another, the one who gets lost on a night out or accidentally stalk-likes her ex’s new girlfriend’s photo on Facebook. Basically, I’m a liability.
“It’s okay. At least it wasn’t a hot one, so no third-degree burns,” I joke, reaching up to brush the worst of the liquid from my shirt as I look up at him.
As my eyes land on his face, my heart squeezes and stops. Okay, that’s an exaggeration; it doesn’t stop, but I definitely get palpitations. It’s him. My Man Crush Monday—but on a Tuesday, outside a coffee shop. I’ve never seen him outside of my work, and I feel myself begin to sweat as nerves and excitement swirl together in my stomach like a tornado.
He groans and reaches up to his breast pocket, pulling out the black pocket square and holding it out to me as he shakes his head in disbelief. “What a dick. I’m really sorry.”
I swallow around my nerves. “It’s fine, honestly. Thanks.”
I slip off my handbag and set it and my half a coffee on the table next to us before taking the offered handkerchief; it’s soft silk, and it feels expensive. I gulp and feel guilty, using it to try and blot the worst of the liquid from my shirt and dry off my neck. My eyes wander over him. Dark grey tailored suit today, crisp white shirt, and a black tie held in place with a silver pin. He looks incredible; it fits him flawlessly, showing off his athletic and toned body, his trousers stretching over his thighs like a wet dream waiting to happen.
“I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Dry cleaning? You’re obviously under the impression that I work for somewhere reputable. This is tumble dry only,” I joke.
When he laughs quietly, I award myself an internal high five.
“Do you have something to change into? You’re on your way to work, I’m assuming?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as his eyes flit down to my jacket with the train company logo stitched into it.
I nod. “Actually, I do. I have a spare shirt in my locker for emergencies such as this. You might not believe me, but this happens to me a lot. Maybe not walking into someone at a coffee shop, but just general spillages. I’m that kind of person.”
“I actually do believe you.” One side of his mouth quirks up into a boyish smile, and it’s so cute that my insides clench, and I grin back like a goon. He brushes off the couple of small droplets of coffee from his suit sleeves before bending to retrieve his phone from the puddle, shooing the dog away from the spill. “No more of that; you’ll get the caffeine shakes.”
I chuckle, watching as he gently tries to push the dog away again. “No one can resist an iced latte; one small sip, and you’re hooked.”
He grins up at me, that full-on devastating smile, and damn if I don’t internally swoon.
“Is your phone okay?” I wince, watching as he gives up on trying to stop the dog and brushes the worst of the liquid off his sleek, expensive-looking smartphone before pressing a button to light up the screen.
“Yeah, all good,” he replies, slipping it into his trouser pocket without really looking at it. His beautiful brown eyes travel down my body, assessing the damage as he stands and steps closer. “You have …” He reaches towards me but then seems to catch himself, and his hand stalls midair before he clears his throat and points at my chest.
I look down, too, to see a partially melted ice cube lodged between my shirt buttons and laugh before flicking it out. “Thanks.”
I hand him back his now-ruined pocket square and pick up my bag and coffee cup.
He shuffles on his feet before nodding back into the shop. “If you won’t let me pay to get your uniform cleaned, at least let me replace your drink.” His eyes shine in apology as he reaches up and scratches the back of his neck almost shyly.
I press my lips together to try and hide my excitement that I get to talk to him for a few more minutes and nod. “Okay, that would be nice. Thanks.”
He turns, grips the handle of the door, and pulls it open, gesturing for me to go through first. I toss my half-empty cup into the bin and step in.
We join the back of the queue and stand awkwardly, side by side. It’s weird, standing next to him, doing something normal like this. I’m struck by how tall he is as he stands at my side; I only just come up past his shoulder. My guess at six foot was probably a little bit off; he’s more like six two. We’re the total opposites. He’s all tall and lean and clean edges, professional-looking. I’m petite with thick thighs and a big bum, all soft curves. My coffee-stained shirt, polyester uniform, and ugly shoes are in direct comparison to his tailored expensiveness. He’s a solid ten, and I’m maybe an average, albeit quirky, six. If it wasn’t for his dorky side that I know he has (hello, he is level seventy-eight on Wizards Unite), I would say we were polar opposites. Yes, he’s good-looking, but if it wasn’t for me seeing his nerd side on our train journeys, I might not have looked twice at him. From the outside, we probably look out of place, standing next to each other like this, but I revel in it and raise my chin, soaking it all up and enjoying it while it lasts.