Chapter 82: La POV

    The passenger door on Xavier’s car clicks shut behind me as he closes my door and steps round to his side.

    I sink into the seat like I’ve finally run out of steam. There’s no more fight left or sarcasm on standby as I stare out the windscreen at nothing in particr.

    Xavier doesn’t say anything when he starts the car. He doesn’t have to, because the silence between us has changed. It’s not heavy or ufortable anymore. It’s more of a mutual understanding that the other needs time to just ibe/ii. /i

    Turning my head, I gaze out my side window and watch the twilight sky pass us by. My legs are tucked underneath me, my hands resting in myp, and my throat still feels raw from emotions spoken and unspoken in equal measures.

    The AC hums to life, and a soft burst of cool air brushes across my arm and shoulder, causing me to shiver slightly. Then the temperature changes to slightly warmer and more of ia /isubtle breeze.

    I nce over to see Xavier adjust the temperature dial by one notch, as if he had noticed I had shivered and didn’t want me to be ufortable.

    He catches me looking and asks, “What?” before returning his eyes to the road ahead.

    “Nothing,” I say, a soft smile on my lips, and my tone softer than usual.

    We stop at a red light, and he drums his fingers once against the steering wheel, then stops, as if he’s second–guessing making too much noise in the car’s cabin. “You sure you’re good for your shift?” he asks as he nces in my direction.

    I nod before saying, “Yeah. Beantree is easy, and it’s familiar. And I need a bit of both right now.”

    He hums, like he gets it. Like, he may have a ce like that, too, where he goes to center himself without having to admit it to anyone.

    Chapter 82 La POV

    He puts the car in park when he pulls up in front of the café, but doesn’t shut it offpletely, giving me time to unbuckle. I hesitate before getting out. Not because I have something profound to say, but because I need to thank him for being there today.

    “Thanks,” I say finally, with no eye roll, sarcasm, or attitude. Just a simple thank you for not being a douche about it while I was experiencing a shitty time in my life.

    His jaw shifts slightly, and his hand lifts off the gear stick towards my face. He gently tucks a wayward lock of hair behind my ear as his eyes dart across my face as if to memorize every minute detail, and then says, “I’ve got you, Princess.”

    And by the way he says it, I know he means it. It’s his simple confirmation that if I ever should need him again, he’ll be there, no matter what.

    I climb out and close the door gently behind me. But I don’t look back as I walk inside, feeling his words‘ weight as they settle in my chest.

    /

    The familiar chime of the bell over Beantree’s door greets me like an old friend. The lighting is warm, and there’s a distinct smell of espresso in the air. Faint indie music is ying from the corner speakers, and behind the counter, Cade is wiping down the espresso machine with thatzy, practiced grace of his.

    He nces up when the door shuts behind me, and when he sees it’s me, I’m given that

    smile.

    The kind of smile that always makes me feel like I’ve just walked into sunshine, even if I’m dragging a thundercloud behind me. The type of smile that I’ve noticed he saves only for me.

    “You’rete,” he says with not a hint of bite in it.

    “I’m ten minutes early,” I reply, raising my eyebrow at him.

    “You’rete in smiling,” he starts, tilting his head to the side. Then he adds, “I’ve been waiting all day for one.”

    Chapter 82 Fa POV

    I don’t mean to, but I smirk just a tiny bit at his ridiculousness,

    He tosses the towel onto the counter and leans with his hip against it. “There it is,” he

    ways with a victorious smirk, like he won somepetition.

    Walking around behind the counter, I drop my bag underneath it and tie on my apron as usual. “You’ve been waiting all day for imy /ismile? That’s tragic, Cade. You need a better hobby,” I say tly.

    “I disagree,” he says as he steps aside to let me pass behind him, then continues, “I think making you smile might be my new full–time job.”

    The way he says it is light and teasing. But there’s something in his eyes…some steady heat under the golden–boy charm that has my heart skipping a beat.

    I busy myself by refilling the pastry case because eye contact might be a mistake right now. My chest still feels heavy from earlier, and I’m not entirely sure I trust myself yet. My emotions are raw, and my walls are up again after my mom tried to bulldoze her way through my life. If someone who’s supposed to have my best interests at heart, and has been in my life for 18 years, can be so callous with my trust and my heart, what guarantee do I have that the guys, who I’ve known but a mere few weeks, won’t try something simr or tuck their tails and run in the opposite direction, leaving me to fend for myself, yet again?

    Cade, being Cade, doesn’t push but stays quiet and still at my side, a mute pir of

    support.

    The ce is quiet because it’s Sunday evening. Only a few students are tapping away on theirptops, and an older gentleman is reading in the corner booth. It’s the kind of lull that makes the thoughts in my head seem louder.

    After a few minutes, Cade slides a small paper cup on the counter in front of me. There’s nobel, and he doesn’t say a word while doing so. I nce at it and then up at him, giving him a questioning look.

    “Try it,” he says matter–of–factly.

    I sniff at it suspiciously after picking it up. It smells of hazelnut, something cinnamon–y,

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    Pr, Sep 3

    Chapter 82: La POV

    and a hint of…is that vani?

    I take a cautious sip, and when the delicious taste floods my taste buds, I take another. And another.

    “It’s good,” I eventually admit with the cup on the way to my lips for another sip.

    He smiles at me then. It’s not his wide, charming smile, but the small one I’ve noticed is just for me when we’re caught in a tender moment.

    “I thought you could use something to warm you up, inside and out,” he says, his voice low and almost shy.

    That makes me pause, because a shy Cade is new to me, and it causes me to look at him. iReally /ilook at him.

    There’s a beat between us that’s rife with unspoken emotion, and this is usually where I would say something sarcastic or brush it off to cut the tension. But I can’t seem to do it, not this time.

    Instead, I sincerely say, “Thank you, Cade.”

    His hand brushes mine when he reaches for a cup beside me. It’s tentative, brief, and barely there. But he doesn’t pull back too fast either, nor do I, needing that small amount of physical contact to help ground me.

    “You ever think maybe this ce could be more than a side gig?” he suddenly asks me, his eyes on the row of Beantree–branded ceramic cups as he ys with a discarded napkin.

    I blink confusedly before asking, “What do you mean?”

    “I mean, you belong here. Behind the counter, and in this world. Creating things and making people feel seen. Not only as a barista, but maybe as a manager or eventually an owner.” Then he looks at me before continuing with a wink, “And not just because you make a killer cappino.b” /b

    My throat tightens, and I look at him as heartfelt emotion swims in his baby blues. And

    Chapter 82: La POV

    suddenly, I need to restock napkins or wipe down menus ianything /ito keep my hands busy.

    b52 /b

    We don’t say much after that, going through the motions, but there is something new in the air. Something that feels distinctly like him wanting something more for me and my

    future.

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