The first time I see her, her chestnut hair is unbound and cascading in damp waves down her back. She's wearing a nondescript black raincoat, grey leggings, and pale, salmon-colored rain boots that slosh against the tile flooring on her way in from the near constant drizzle of late winter in Port Angeles. Her full lips are the perfect shade of blush against her porcelain skin and I curse under my breath as I pack fresh espresso grounds and load it into the machine.

Jasper is jolted from playing Candy Crush on his phone, one blond brow raising at me. When he catches her standing in front of the counter, reading the menu behind us, his mouth quirks up at the corners. "Damn," he whispers, lightly elbowing me, "She's a dime. I've got her."

Jasper - with his chin length, dirty blond waves that are always artfully combed back from his face, the tattoos that snake up his arms, his piercing blue eyes - is always a hit with girls.

My fingers fumble as I try to steam the milk even though I've done this countless times. I tug at the apron string around my neck, which suddenly feels too tight.

I mindlessly complete the order for the customer who came in before her, my eyes flicking over to see Jasper smile at her, make her laugh. When I hear her laugh - even though something tells me it is forced - my chest tightens.

I push the finished drink to one of our regulars with a smile, then I cart my hands through my hair in an attempt to calm it. My last girlfriend always told me it was too unruly, that she wanted to cut it. I brush my fingers through it again. Then, I realize I need to wash my hands because health codes still exist and I jog over to the sink. I roll back the sleeves on my flannel and furiously scrub, attempting to physically wash off the sudden anxiety that coats my skin.

Jasper hands two plastic cups to me, one reading Dreamy - our cold brew with sweet cream - and one reading Dirty - our cold brew with chocolate drizzle and a shot of espresso. His precise printing on the cups tells me her name is Bella.

My eyes dart to her, to see her looking down at her iPhone, her teeth worrying her lower lip and I can't help but wonder if she's the dreamy or the dirty. Can't help but wonder, as I pour the cold brew base into both drinks, what those teeth would feel like on my lower lip.

I haven't had sex in a year - since Kate dumped me - and I feel a not unwelcome twitch below as I stare at her lips. Jasper clears his throat and I startle, thankful that she hadn't noticed the way I was just ogling her.

When I hand her the dreamy and our eyes meet, the cutest fucking blush I've ever seen falls over the apples of her cheeks. She's deadly sexy and adorable at the same time and I think my brain is short circuiting.

I can't help but smile crookedly at her. "Are you the dreamy or the dirty?" I ask with faux innocence as I grab the second drink and hold it out to her.

Her eyes drop down to my nametag. She reaches forward to take the drink from my outstretched hand and our fingers brush; her hazel eyes burn into mine. "Wouldn't you like to know, Edward?" She spins on her heel and walks out of the door, her hips swaying slightly. I watch her ass as she leaves and I'm fully hard now, adjusting the apron slightly as she jogs across the street in the rain.

Jasper claps me on the shoulder, chuckling. "You got it bad bad." He laughs.


Later that week, I tell Jasper I want to work mornings from here on out. I say it's because my class times have switched - which is partially true - but the main reason is because I can't get Bella out of my head.