Page 56 of Taken By Sin
I give her a grin and follow him upstairs. “I think you should move into my room. It makes no sense you staying in there. And to be honest, I’m growing tired of Axle abandoning me,” he says this so casually, as if this isn’t a huge deal.
As if me moving into a man’s room isn’t like the biggest deal ever. “I’ll think about it.”I don’t know if I’m ready for that.
He holds in his irritation, kissing me instead. “At least let me get you anI’m sorrygift.”
“Like what?” I raise a brow.
“I want to get you a car, as it will give you more freedom.”
My eyes widen. “Seriously? My work is a walk away.” I look at my phone. “Speaking of that, I’ll need to be there in an hour. That’s really sweet, Sin, but there’s no way I’m letting you buy me a car.”
He throws his head back, “Damnit I forgot about that. When do you get off? I’ll pick you up.”
“Did you hear me? We’re not going to buy a car, Sin.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll still pick you up.” His fingertips graze my arm. “Take you on a date?”
I wrap my arms around him with a grin. “That would be lovely!”
TWENTY-FOUR
The smell of coffee and old books swirls in the air as I wipe down the counter for what feels like the hundredth time. My arms ache from a morning rush I didn’t think would ever end, but there’s something oddly satisfying about the chaos. The chime of the bell above the door signals another customer, and I glance up, ready to greet them. Instead, Victoria appears, balancing a tray of mugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
“Still alive back here?” she asks, her grin as warm as the latte she handed me yesterday.
“Barely,” I admit, leaning on the counter. “Do peoplealwaysdrink this much coffee?”
Victoria laughs, setting the tray down. She’s wearing her usual oversized cardigan and a pair of glasses perched on top of her head like she forgot they’re not on her face.
“This is nothing,” she says, grabbing a rag to help me withthe counter. “Wait until finals week. Then it’s like a caffeinated apocalypse in here.”
I groan dramatically, and she nudges me with her elbow. “You’ll survive. You’re doing great so far.”
“Thanks,” I say, though I don’t entirely believe her. Earlier I accidentally gave someone a hot chocolate instead of a cappuccino, and then I nearly broke the espresso machine trying to figure out how to steam milk. But Victoria hasn’t yelled at me yet, so that’s something.
She steps back and surveys the counter. “Perfect. Ready for round two?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Nope,” she says cheerfully, tossing the rag into a bin.
The door chime rings again, and this time it’s a middle-aged woman holding a small, yappy dog under her arm.
Victoria leans closer to me, whispering, “This is Mrs. Delaney. She orders the same thing every day: a half-caf soy latte with one pump of vanilla, extra foam, but she’ll tell you it’s wrong no matter how perfect it is.”
“Got it,” I say, trying not to let my nerves show. I had a crash course in making drinks this morning, but there are so many combinations that it’s dizzying. I do have a tablet that is a cheat sheet, so that has been very useful.
Sure enough, Mrs. Delaney approaches the counter with a scrutinizing look. Before I can say anything, she launches into her order. I nod and get to work, trying not to mess up. Behind me, I hear Victoria humming to herself as she straightens a display of books near the register.
When I hand the latte to Mrs. Delaney, she takes one sip and frowns. “This isn’t quite right,” she says, shaking her head.
I panic for half a second before Victoria swoops in like a superhero. “Let me fix that for you, Mrs. Delaney,” she says, her voice so smooth and sweet it could pass for caramel syrup. She winks at me when the woman isn’t looking, then pretends to pour something in, swirling it with a wooden stick before handing it back.
Mrs. Delaney leaves a moment later, finally satisfied, and I exhale in relief.
“See?” Victoria says, leaning on the counter next to me. “Piece of cake.”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “If that was cake, I’d rather starve.”