I think there used to be a time when I loved coffee. Probably, sometime before I worked in a coffee shop. Now, it is a necessity and the bane of my existence but, when you're a student who's scholarships and savings don't quite cover enough for you to buy actual food, you have to make up the difference somewhere.
So I chose a coffee shop. I'd had a romanticized view of what working in a coffee shop would be like, which wasn't at all based in reality. I'd thought that it would be a mostly stress-free way to earn some grocery cash.
What I got was a strange mix of stress, weirdos, and sticky coffee mess to deal with every day. I can't walk into a coffee shop now without feeling some anxiety. Even the smell of freshly ground beans drives me nuts.
Which takes me to today. An absolute shit day, with some absolute shits for customers. I had one in front of me, Keith? Ken?
Fuck. I can't remember.
And that would most certainly piss him off.
He is part of a group of regulars who pretty much feel as if they own the place. Show up right when we open at four fuckin' thirty in the morning and hang around bitching with all the other retired dudes who are somehow under the impression that all the baristas are madly in love with them because we're paid to be nice to them.
Fuck. My. Life.
And here I was, forgetting this guy's name and forgetting how to input it into the computer so it would print on the sticker, so I could put the sticker on the cup (not on the logo! Never on the logo), and send it down to the line of other cups, behind customers who are equally impatient to get their drink.
Fortunately, Finn is my supe today, which means he swoops right in when he realizes I'm floundering. I fiddle with the little sunshine pin I have on my apron. It's a nervous tell, but somehow it makes me feel better to press the jagged edges of my pin into the tips of my fingers, it kind of distracts me from feeling embarrassed or awkward.
"Peanut," he calls to me as he presses the right places on the touch screen in front of me. "And Keith! How's your morning going? Still working on that 57 Chev?"
Finn is a natural and way too good for this place. I don't know how he manages to retain all these details about customers, let alone sound enthusiastic when he talks to them about whatever inane bullshit happens to be consuming their lives at the moment, but he does. Things haven't always been easy for Finn, but he's so full of compassion and grace that I'm certain he's a literal angel and if he wasn't already in a committed relationship to my bestie, Rose, I'd be married to him.
Except Finn would be way too good for you, even hypothetically, that happy voice inside my head reminds me.
Of course, I know that Finn is too good for me in every way imaginable, but I'm fortunate enough to be able to consider him a friend and that's more than enough for me.
Keith grunts something about his car before shuffling over to stand near the espresso machines and chat with Jess, who's working the bar. She makes it all seem so effortless as well, pulling shots, steaming milk, chatting with people who barely treat you as if you're human and more like some sort of talking caffeine dispenser.
Finn gives me a pat on the shoulder and whispers that he has my back and I'm infinitely grateful for his support. Without him, I'd have quit months ago, even though I need the money, badly.
"Only two more hours and you have a break coming up. So that's something to look forward to," he reminds me as he moves back to stand near the pastry case and help wherever he's needed next.
The line begins to blur and soon I fall back into a weird rhythm that seems to settle in near the end of my shift. It figures that by the time I am almost ready to leave, I get used to being at work.
I'm about to step off for my last 15 when he walks in. Everyone knows him. He's hard to miss. Way too tall, dark featured, pale skin, and quiet. How Finn was able to get his name out of him is a fuckin' wonder.
Ben. Such a little name for so much man, I think.
I swear that his lips almost quirk into a smile when Finn calls his name and asks about his day. His reply isn't much, a simple, "Good, and yours?" But it's taken months of work to get even that much out of him.
It's strange to me, why he bothers coming in instead of just ordering on the app. He wouldn't have to talk to us if he just ordered on his phone. The first time I'd met him, it had been my second week at the shop and I'd messed up his order so badly that I was certain he'd yell at me—so many other people hadn't been very patient at all with me that day.
But he'd just slowly walked me through his order and, at the end of it, he'd even complimented my sunshine pin before moving on. My trainer had been flabbergasted, but I'd practically beamed. The rest of the day hadn't been so bad after that and, eventually, things got better for me.
And he kept coming, which was great because I sure appreciated seeing his handsome face. Sometimes, I'd indulge my fantasies and pretend that he was coming in to see me specifically, but I knew it was kind of a stupid thought to have.
Still, I was happy to see him, even if he was just coming to get his daily dose of caffeine. There is something so alluring about him, almost as if a piece of his soul calls out to mine as he visits, which is so silly and probably has more to do with the fact that I regularly run on three hours of sleep and am half-mad most of the time.
"Hi, Ben," I say with a smile because I'm paid to remember people's names and coffee orders, even if I'm kind of terrible at it.
Apparently, my brain only chooses to work for hot customers.
"Good morning," he replies while fiddling with his phone.
It's not much, but I'll take it. His hair is a little shorter than the last time I saw him. If I had more guts, I'd tell him I fancy the haircut, but I don't want to disturb the fragile peace between us.
And, besides, how many times have you thought about running your fingers through his hair? Yeah. Keep the mouth shut, Rey. You'll just embarrass yourself.
"The usual?" I ask while choosing to listen to my sensible inner monologue.
"The usual," he replies while flipping his phone around to pay.
A beep later and he's already shifting away from me.
"Have an awesome day!" I call cheerfully and that earns me a nod.
I try not to stare as he steps back. He's wearing a navy suit and I can tell by the exaggerated stitching and fantastic tailoring that it's bespoke. Ben's a tall man, but he's also really broad, so the tapered look of his pants and jacket highlight his attributes amazingly. I look around and notice that I'm not the only one who is stealing a peek.
With a shake of my head, I try to keep myself focused enough to get through the rest of the morning. Hot customers or not, I still have to finish the day here and the last thing I need is to mess up someone's coffee order because I am too busy staring at another customer.
I assume my seeing Ben is an anomaly because everyone knows he usually hits the lunch rush and I'm usually long gone before that happens.
But I see him the next day.
And the next.
And pretty much every shift I work, I see him.
Tall.
Impeccable.
Quiet.
It settles into something of a routine, so much so that I actually start to engage him in conversation, which is mostly me just talking up at him, but it's fun and he seems to appreciate it. At least, if the little smile that he only ever gives me is any indication.
I'm not interested in dating customers, and it's not as if I'm encouraging that by being nice to him, but I might be willing to make an exception for someone like Ben.
It's strange, but he kind of reminds me of me, at least, how I used to be before I started working here. Growing up in the system, I learned to keep to myself and internalize everything. Without Finn's friendship, and Poe and Rose, I don't know where I'd be, but I'm grateful for all of them.
So, basically, I think I know how he feels.
Or maybe I'm projecting, I dunno. Probably both.
I find out that he's an investment banker which isn't surprising given the fact that half of our clientele is made up of bankers or other business professionals.
I find out that he hates drip coffee, at least, our house blend anyway. I'd offered him a sample—some cookie paired with coffee—and he'd turned his nose up at the coffee, but gladly taken the cookie.
"You like sweets, Ben?"
"Sometimes," he replies.
"Only when they're from a sweetheart like you," Finn jokes and Ben blushes to the tips of his adorable ears.
"Finn!" I growl, but I'm kind of charmed by Ben's response.
Our fingertips brush as I pass him the sample and it almost feels like an electric shock runs through us when we touch. I can't help but stare at his hands, they're so big.
Don't think about it, don't think about it. Don't think about it!
Now, I'm blushing because all I can think about is how much I like the size and shape of his hands. The size and shape of his everything.
"Have a nice day, Rey," Ben calls softly as he steps away, cookie in hand and I nearly gasp.
He's never said my name before and do I ever enjoy the way it sounds coming out of his mouth.
This is bad. Superbad. Super duper bad. He's just a customer and the last thing I need is someone thinking that I'm into them when I know it's never going to be reciprocated.
I mean, look at me. Too tall. Too thin. Too scrappy. Too much. When he's so... brilliant. And alluring. Strong and silent? Who knew that was a type outside of the movies?
Finn ribs me, a big smile on his dark, handsome face. I hate him a little as he says, "That's the most I've ever heard out of him, Peanut. I think he likes you."
"There's no way. I just make sure he gets his daily dose of caffeine," I grumble.
"Mmmm, sure. He never used to come in this early before. He was always here with the lunch rush. Now, he's bright-eyed and bushy, just like you," he says with a laugh because that is a fuckin' lie and he knows it.
I am not a morning person. I mean, I pretend to be one out of necessity, but I would rather be up late and sleep late. Unfortunately, life has other plans. But Ben...
Now that Finn mentions it, he does look as if he hates getting up early. Considering I'm off before eleven, that means I miss the early afternoon crush. So, if he came later in the day, he wouldn't see me either.
But it was a silly fantasy. He'd never given me any sort of indication that he was interested. Though once I'd messed up his order somehow—typed it in wrong after a particularly bad night of no sleep, and he'd come back, sheepish and apologetic to say that his drink wasn't right.
"Quad Grande Americano with sugar-free Vanilla and a splash of heavy cream?" I'd asked. Because, of course, I knew his drink.
"Yeah, normally," he'd said before turning his cup to show me the sticker.
"Ugh," I'd groaned. "I am so sorry, I don't even know what planet I'm on anymore."
His eyes had widened at that and then, with an absolutely adorable little head tilt, he'd given me a knowing smile.
"I can spot another night owl," he revealed.
"I can't handle these shifts, but I need the cash," I admitted. "Forgive me? I'll throw in one of those cookies that you like for the trouble."
"It's only a drink," he'd said as I switched his botched drink for a cookie.
I handwrote his drink and skipped it to the front of the line before heading back to my post.
"It'll be waiting for you on the end in a cinch."
"Thank you, Rey," he said before stepping back.
I was halfway through calling over the next customer when I thought I heard him call, "And Rey?"
I blinked over in his direction, surprised to hear his voice again—especially so clearly! "Is everything okay, Ben?"
"Try to get more sleep. Sleep deprivation is more harmful than most people realize."
I stared at him. He stared back at me. And we both seemed to realize at once that our conversation had veered from the typical into some sort of strange new territory where he knew me well enough or at least had been given coffee by me frequently enough, that he wanted to make sure I was okay?
"I... Urm. Okay, thanks... Ben. You too?"
His ears and cheeks were flushed when he nodded and turned away. And I tried to move on with my morning but, unfortunately, both Jess and Finn had seen the whole exchange. They'd teased me about it for weeks, but nothing had come of it so I'd let it go.
I saw him. He saw me. We barely spoke. But I wondered more and more what it would be like to pursue someone like him. I didn't know much about him, aside from the fact that he worked at some sort of investment firm and looked as if he made as much money in a week as I did in a year, but he was kind.
At least, more kind than the rest of the people that came from the same office. Snoke Investments, it was called.
Occasionally, we'd see Phasma, a tall, pale, blonde woman who was short and to the point with her orders, which I appreciated and could handle. Hux, on the other hand, was a complete dick, and I had to bite my tongue on the regular to keep from saying something that I'd regret to his nasty, pasty face. I'd never met the company's namesake, which was great because Finn assured me he was a real prick.
That Ben worked amongst these people was remarkable to me. I could barely manage the coffee shop and I had great support from some amazing friends.
Going it alone... In an oppressive environment... Sounds like shit.
Ben never talked about his work, didn't talk about much of everything, but he ordered from me almost every shift I worked—and left a nice tip at the end of each week, which only made my crush on him worse.
But it wasn't just at work, he invaded my dreams too. Bespoke suits and all. Hair fashionably shaggy, lips flushed and full. In my dreams, he'd tell me all his secrets, whispering against my skin as that sensual voice rumbling through my body.
In my dreams, he fucked with purpose. Almost as if life hadn't been golden for him and he was trying to make up for it by worshiping my body. It was the most satisfied I'd ever been with a lover, and he wasn't even real.
That should tell you all that you need to know about my non-existent sex life.
Sometimes, I'd see him around town, driving his Audi, as I scraped by in my 97 Toyota Camry. It was fine. One day, I'd have a nice car and nice things and maybe someone would look at me with the same wonder I seemed to have for people with money.
I am going to be a programmer. Get my computer science degree and then help make games or programs or things that will bring people joy and make their lives easier. I want people to be happy and will do whatever I can to make that dream happen. Even if it means sacrificing my own happiness for a little while.
And if it means that I get to see Ben for a little while longer, well, I'll count that as a small indulgence in a life that hasn't always been kind.
At the end of a long, particularly taxing shift, where I'd had to clean up an obscene mess in the bathroom and had been yelled at not once, but twice by customers who didn't seem to be able to understand that it was hard to hear them when they didn't speak clearly, I walk out to see that my shit day has just gotten shittier.
My tire is flat. Completely useless. Crouching down beside the driver's side, I can see a giant nail right in the tread.
Fuckin' fantastic.
And, as if on cue, the clouds open up and rain drips onto my head. Good thing I'd forgotten to pack an umbrella this morning. The rain starts to pour as I consider what to do next. It is a long bus ride back to the U-District and I'll have to bum some change from Finn for bus fare.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I kick my deflated tire and resist the urge to cry as I shiver in the cold. I'm about halfway back to the shop when a voice calls out.
"Need a hand?"
Ben. Oh, terrific that he gets to see me like this, just brilliant.
Ben rolls up in his gorgeous luxury car, a car that is probably worth more than my entire life, looking like some sort of dark prince on the prowl. How embarrassing.
Ben. Ben from Snoke Investments. Ben with the beautiful hair and moles. Ben with the remarkable lips that often feature in my dreams. Ben with the giant hands that I definitely have fantasized about on more than one occasion. That Ben.
"Oh. Well, Uh. The tire's flat and I don't have a spare...," I trail off because it sounds so stupid.
Who doesn't have a spare tire? Oh, right. Someone who is perpetually broke and just scraping by, specifically, someone like me.
"Can I give you a ride somewhere?" he offers.
"I... I don't want to be any trouble for you," I say with a little shooing motion, even as the rain drips down my face. "Besides. I'm soaking wet."
Ben shakes his head. "That doesn't matter. I don't mind, if you're comfortable, that is..." It's his turn to trail off awkwardly.
I mean, I guess I don't know him so maybe I should be worried? But he's never done anything weird at the coffee shop before and, well, our location was known for having some strange customers so I've seen weird before and he doesn't give off that vibe.
Yeah, Rey. That sounds like an excuse, even to me, my mind supplies.
Okay, so maybe I do want to get to know this man better, is that so bad? That maybe for once in my life, I can dream about having more? I sigh. I'm an idiot, but I'd be even more of an idiot to pass up a car ride from someone who I have a crush on.
"I, well. I mean, it's fine. I'm not uncomfortable, but I just don't want to be a bother to anyone," I sputter.
"You could never be a bother to me," he says and we both gape at each other.
He seems surprised that he's said what he said, and I sure the hell am too.
Oh, shit.
"Just... I'm gonna text Finn and then, if you don't mind, I'd love it if you could take me to the U-District. I live in a flat around there."
"Of course," he says as we both ignore what he's just said.
I shoot off a soggy text to Finn as Ben pulls his car around. He reaches across to open the door for me, which I find strangely sweet, even if his big body does it with ease. I settle inside the car and am very aware of how I'm soaking the leather of his seats.
My hands are cold and I fail more than once to get the seatbelt to click in. I must look like a complete moron, but I just can't seem to get the belt to work with my fingers as numb as they are.
"I can help, if you'd like," Ben offers and I give him a grateful smile.
"I'm normally not this inept," I try to say as I start to shiver.
Ben cranks the heat before reaching across my lap to grab the belt. One clicks later and I'm safely seated in the nicest car that I've ever been inside.
I definitely don't focus on how his hand lingers a little, brushing up against the curve of my hip as he clicks the belt into place. Or how his fingers trail along my shoulder as he makes sure that the belt is comfortably placed across my chest.
Yeah. Definitely, don't think about any of that.
I turn to look into his eyes. It's too direct and I'm the first one to look away, but instead of doing anything rational, like moving back in my seat and staring out the window, I just shift my gaze down to his lips.
Big mistake. Huge.
He knows I'm staring. I know I'm staring. Ben's tongue darts and slides across that full, bottom lip as his eyes scan my face. I wonder what he tastes like. He smells amazing. Like cinnamon and spice. Like a scent that I'd love to rub all over myself or wake up beside.
Don't be an idiot, I think as I finally manage to look away.
"Is it okay to leave your car here like this?" Ben asks as he shifts his Audi into gear and rolls towards the parking lot exit.
"My car? Oh, yeah. It'll be fine. No one will touch that rust bucket and I've got my winter tires stored at Finn's place, so I'll just grab one later and get him to give me a hand," I prattle on.
He doesn't need to know literally any of that, but I can't seem to stop my mouth from moving. Maybe if I fill up the space between us, it'll keep me from feeling so awkward and distract me from the fact that I'm soaking up his luxury car.
Ben nods his head, dark hair falling into his eyes as I try not to stare or wonder whether his hair is a soft as it looks, but he doesn't add anything, so I take that as a sign to keep my mouth shut.
And it works, for a little while, anyway. But as we pull onto I-5 and make our way towards the U-District, my mouth gets the better of me.
I trail my finger along the condensation on the window and just barely resist the urge to write my name against the glass.
"I'm fogging up the place. Been a while since I fogged up anyone's windshield," I try to joke before I realize just what the hell I've said.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh Shit. Why did you say that? What is wrong with you!?
Ben coughs a little as I sputter, but before I can apologize he teases, "And how long is that, exactly?"
I glare over at him, still dripping and looking like a mess. "Teenaged activities, Ben. I'd like to think I've moved up in the world."
"No more making out in cars for you?"
"Urm. Never say never?" I say with a laugh as his lips curl at the edge.
He's fuckin' handsome, good Lord. And flirting with me? A wet, soggy mess?
I can't make heads or tails of this situation, but before I can awkwardly continue, he asks, "Where's the accent from?"
That is an easy question. "I'm from England, originally. Just outside of London."
"What brought you to the states?" he continues, eyes on the road, hands wrapped tightly around the wheel.
Lights blink and blur in the rain as we pass by downtown Seattle. I think about my answer. Just how much did I want to share with him? The last thing I want or need is his pity, but I decide on some version of my truth.
"I didn't have a great childhood. Foster kid. Bounced around a lot. I thought that maybe I could have a fresh start in the States. Managed to get a scholarship and some loans, and here I am."
Moving from London to the US, specifically Seattle, wasn't as strange as I'd thought it would be. In many ways, it was very similar to where I was from. Lots of rain. Green. Different kind of green, but it helped keep me from feeling too homesick.
"Chasing the American dream?" he asks.
"Something like that," I say, and before the car can settle back into silence, I urge, "Tell me about yourself."
I need to know more about this man. And Finn will be dying for details, so I want to get all the info I can.
It takes a moment for him to answer, not that I blame him. The past is complicated for most people and choosing a place to start that isn't too tragic, or too braggy, is a challenge.
I wonder what kind of life this man has lived? Does he have a family that loves him? Or is he a nobody, like me?
Sometimes, people are self-imposed nobodies. Sometimes, the past is hard because of the people that remain in our memories.
I don't know where the thought comes from, but as Ben starts to talk about his life, I get the sense that, whatever intuition I've experienced, it's dead on.
"I was raised in New York, but decided to move out west to get away from my family and the obligations that went along with living there."
"I've only ever stopped over in New York. Did you enjoy it, living there, I mean?" I wonder.
The stories I've heard about New York make it sound like a magical wonderland, where people never sleep—a place where anyone can find themselves and make a new start. I've always wanted to visit.
"It was an experience. I lived in Manhattan and there's a social hierarchy there that I wasn't interested in belonging to. I think people should be able to grow beyond their family name and make something on their own."
I laugh a little. "Well, I don't even have my own family name, so I guess I have a leg up in that regard. Do you miss it?"
Ben catches my eye as he smiles. "Not even a little."
"Do you enjoy it here?" I wonder as he turns his head back to the road.
I take a moment to study his face and decide that I love his freckles and moles. And the uneven arch of his nose. And... I stop myself before I can get too caught up in my daydream.
"There's a lot of rain. But the girls are very pretty, so it makes up for it," he says and this time I do make out a smile on his handsome face.
"I think that's directed towards me," I tease. "Glorious, soggy Seattle girls."
I didn't mean it, really, but he sort of turns his head towards me and assures me, "It was. You must know how lovely you are."
"I... What? What do you mean?" I mumble, stunned.
Was Finn right? Is Ben interested in me? There's no way, right?
Ben opens his mouth but seems to decide against whatever he was going to say next and settles on, "Oh. Nothing. Forget I said anything."
Now I'm embarrassed and feel like a fool. Of course, he didn't mean anything by it. I'm just a barista and he's, well, he's... everything that I'm not.
The car falls into an uncomfortable silence and soon enough we're outside of my flat. I wish I knew how to make this better or to take back the awkwardness that's settled around us, but I can't so I mumble a goodbye, unbuckle my belt, and reach for the handle.
But Ben catches my hand before I can scoot out of the car.
"Wait," he says.
It's more of a demand than anything else and the word sends a shiver of awareness right through to my core.
"What do you need, Ben?" I ask, lip caught between my teeth as I shift to face him.
He's so intense. He's always so intense. I don't know much about him except for this truth. The car feels too hot and my body is slick with sweat and rain. His presence is overwhelming as he moves closer.
"I don't want you to feel obligated. And I want you to understand that you are welcome to say no if you aren't interested, but I'd love to... get to know you better. Outside of from when we talk at the coffee shop."
All the air leaves my lungs in a little gasp as I try to make sense of his words. So I hadn't been losing it. He was interested in me. Maybe he's just not good at taking the first step? Goodness knows, neither am I.
"Oh, I well..." I can't find the words.
My tongue is tied and I feel like I'm floating outside of myself.
I guess I pause for a tick too long because he starts to shake his head as he assures me, "It was only a thought. I don't want you to feel that you need to. You owe me nothing for the ride and... I just thought, but it's fine."
I squeeze his hand and shush him. "It's not that. I... I'm not good at this sort of thing. I'd love to go to dinner."
The smile he gives me at that takes my breath away.
Oh, shit. He's way too hot.
My cheeks feel hot and my body is flushed with warmth even though I'm soaked through. Ben squeezes my hand back and I smile up at him before making a quick decision. Before I can think better of it, I lean towards him and press a kiss against his mouth.
I mean it to be a quick press of my lips against his. Nothing too overwhelming, just a sweet kiss to show my appreciation and anticipation of what's to come. What I get in return is so soul-shattering, so overwhelming, that I barely make it into my flat before I burst into flames.
At the first, tentative press of my lips, Ben leans in, one hand coming to gently pull against my hip while the other trails along the curve of my jaw before threading into my damp hair.
His fingers slide against my skin and I let out a pitiful whine at the contact. I press into him and dig my hands into the fabric of his dress shirt. His chest expands against my touch. He's so hard underneath that fabric. I always knew that he was big and that those fancy suits were hiding what was probably a killer body, but this was beyond my scope of experience.
His lips gently pull at my own, plump and lush as he sucks once, twice. Ben kisses with the whole of his heart and body and all I can do is hang on for the ride.
God. I feel hot and cold and achy all over. It's just a kiss... Why does it feel like so much more?
Ben tilts his head and deepens the kiss, tongue tangling with mine, as I all but fall into his lap. His hand urges me on and as I scrabble, he reaches down and moves the seat back. With his big body and mine, I barely fit between the wheel and him, but I manage only because I'm pressed up against so tight against him.
"Ben," I gasp. "I didn't mean for this to happen."
"Neither did I, but I'm glad it did," he assures me.
I've never felt like this kissing someone before. There is something different about this man. Of course, I'd noticed him at work, but here, outside of that space, was something else. It was more than just his looks or his presence, there was an essence within him that I found infinitely appealing. I want to get to know this man. More than I'd wanted to get to know anyone.
As I settle into his lap, steering wheel digging into my side, I realize a few embarrassing truths all at once: I smell like coffee and I'm sticky with sweat. Also, my hair is pulled back into three messy buns, I look like hot trash and I'm soaking wet. Soaking wet and probably dripping through his clothing right now.
"I didn't think this through," I admit as I scrunch my nose at him.
Ben's lips quirk. "I'm glad for that too, but maybe you'd be more comfortable if we... continue sometime later?"
"Maybe when I'm not soaking wet and smelling like a coffee bean?" I offer.
"Yeah, something like that," he says with a little laugh and I immediately decide I want to hear that sound more often.
"Didn't think I'd be steaming up someone's windows like this quite so soon," I joke.
Ben leans forward and rasps his teeth along the column of my throat. My entire being shivers with anticipation. I'd really not thought this though.
I know next to nothing about this man, aside from the fact that I find him wildly attractive and that my body and soul seem to ache for his presence.
As his lips pull against my skin, I manage to say, "Are you free tomorrow? We could go to Molly Moon's and get some ice cream over in the U Village?"
"I would love that, Rey," he murmurs against my throat and I immediately decided that I'd also like to hear him say my name like that again.
Over and over and over. But maybe after you get to know him a little better?
I reluctantly disentangle my body from his, but not before pressing my own kiss against the curve of his throat.
Fuck. I shouldn't have done that.
The sweet smell of his cologne and skin radiate up from his big body and I just know I'm going to be fantasizing about the touch, taste, feel of him for the rest of my natural life. And the little growl he lets out as my lips press against his skin? The way his hands dig into my hips and hold me tight?
Perfection.
"See you tomorrow, Ben. 11? Okay? I need to get some things done in the morning first."
"I'll pick you up at 11. Should we exchange numbers?"
Oh, shit. Good idea.
I slid reluctantly out of his lap as I dig my phone out of my pocket. Unlocking it, I click on the contacts before handing it over to him. Ben does the same for me. I shoot off a quick text before I get out.
This is Rey from the coffee shop.
"See you tomorrow, Rey," he calls as I step out of his car.
"Bye, Ben," I reply before closing the car door and rushing into my building to get out of the heavy rain.
He waits to make sure that I get into the building safely, which I appreciate. Before I get into the elevator, I shoot off another text:
See you in the AM, Grande Americano with sugar-free vanilla and an inch of steamed heavy cream.
I'm in bed by the time he replies:
See you tomorrow, Sunshine.
I can't wipe the grin off of my face as I fish for my keys. Rose is going to know something is up and I can barely believe the story I have for her. Tomorrow is going to change my life, I can just feel it.
Any mistakes are my own and I love them. Come visit me on Tumblr pacificwanderer and bitch about working in coffee shops and retail lol. My inbox is always open if you need it. If you've enjoyed this fic, please feel free to share with a friend or leave a comment in the little box. Thank you for reading and kudos to everyone over at The Writing Den and House Crylo!