12

" Y ou know, I swear, the barista totally flirted with me," Olivia exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Liv and I are nestled in the cosy corner of Tracy's Coffee Stop, a local joint always buzzing with activity.

I chuckle. "Dude, you think every coffee boy flirts with you. It should be part of their job description by now, I reckon."

Olivia grins, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, well, it's true. But this one was really laying it on thick. Didn't you hear?"

To be honest, I didn't. My mind has been a whirlwind this morning, babbling to itself—skipping from one worry to the next like a hyperactive squirrel. Saturday had been spent nursing a throbbing headache from the alcohol I consumed, even though I seemed to sober up pretty quickly that night.

Being around Bradley's presence will do that to ya!

I find myself replaying every moment with him, and all those ‘what ifs' that I've tried to bury come bubbling back up.

What if I hadn't asked him that awkward question? What if he thinks I'm a complete weirdo now ?

If only I could shake off this silly crush, maybe things wouldn't feel so awkward between us. I can't help but dissect every interaction with Bradley, my mind spinning with questions and hypotheticals. But alas, my heart seems to have a mind of its own, and it's set on overdrive whenever Bradley's around.

Is there a way to uninstall this crush like a bad app? Maybe I should try hitting ‘reset' on my feelings.

Oh, if only it were that easy.

Her words pull me back to reality, and I realise I've been staring off into space. "Sorry, Liv. What were you saying?"

Olivia clears her throat, drawing my attention back to the present. "I was saying there is a man at the counter who keeps staring. Don't look now!"

I try to act casual as I wait for the right moment. When Olivia finally gives the signal, I sneak a quick glance in the direction of the counter. I immediately spot the man Olivia is talking about. He's tall, towering over the other customers. His bright yellow high-vis shirt and cargo shorts make him stand out, and there's a dishevelled quality to his dark hair.

He looks older, somewhere in his mid-thirties. Maybe?

I have no clue.

"Oof. He's got that rugged look and the brooding vibe, no?" Liv adds.

"I suppose," I say with a shrug, not particularly interested. I'm not one to ogle men or get flustered over a guy standing in a coffee shop.

"You suppose? Girl, we need to up your game! Spruce up your love life," she insists, clearly amused by the idea.

Her comments on the man's rugged look and brooding vibe trigger an unwarranted thought in my mind about Bradley—making me blush instantly. Of course, Liv notices .

"Look at you blushing. I know you think he's cute." But my blush isn't about the stranger at the counter. I roll my eyes, trying to hide the flush creeping up my cheeks.

"He's way too old."

"Pfft, age is just a number, sweetie. Besides, I like them a little older." She waves off my comment with a smirk.

"You're as mad as a cut snake."

She grins, a mischievous glint in her eye. "What can I say? I like ‘em with a bit of experience."

"Speaking of experience, when are you thinking about applying for jobs? You can't sit around on the farm all day long." I chuckle, teasing her.

"Gee, thanks. Maybe that's what I plan to do for the rest of my life, ya never know." I settle her with a look—a look that says ‘as if.'

"Yeah, nah, fuck that! I can't think of anything worse." This makes us both chuckle. "I have been thinking of starting up my own candle making business for now, just to get by until I can land a proper job," she adds.

"Oh, that's new!"

"Yeah, it's easy, fun, and I can personalise them for any customer. I just need to start up a website or Insta account," Liv adds enthusiastically .

"Sounds like a great plan," I reply, genuinely intrigued. "I'm sure your candles will be a hit."

Olivia beams. "Thanks, girl. I hope so."

"Well! Did you gals have a good time today?" Grace asks, her hands bustling around the kitchen as she wipes down the countertops with a flour-dusted cloth. Liv and I exchange a knowing glance; her mum has always been like this, full of energy and always bustling about, even when there's no need.

After our impromptu coffee catch-up, Liv's mum asked her to grab some last-minute groceries for dinner, so we made a quick trip to the local mini-mart. Now, in the spacious Mitchell kitchen, Liv and I are unpacking the bags for Grace while she tidies up—her father, well, who knows where he is.

He's always been a bit of a mystery, but to me, Dominic Mitchell has always been like a second father. After all, I did spend quite some time here after school in our younger days.

"We had so much fun," Liv chimes in, flashing me a grin and a wink.

"What's that smile about?" Grace queries.

"Oh, she's still blushing about the guy that was flirting with her at the counter," I say.

"Oh, really now?"

"Yep! He even came past our table before we left to leave his number with her," I admit, as I recall the encounter.

Grace just smiles at me.

"Yeah, yeah. They just can't help themselves," Liv adds with a chuckle.

I can't help but marvel at Liv's confidence. She's always been so sure of herself, in the way she speaks, presents herself, talks to guys, talks about them. I wonder if I'll ever be like that. But it's not in my nature, I remind myself.

I'm just not wired like that.

"When did I raise ya to be so full of yourself, girl?" Grace says with a hand on her hip. "You know them boys like humble women."

"Yeah, exactly, boys," Liv says, making air quote signs. "I think I need to find myself a man ."

"Olivia Mitchell," Grace says, whacking her with the cloth in her hand. "You best hope that your father doesn't ever hear this sort of yarn. Keep your voice down," she chides. Liv just rolls her eyes and shoots me a look.

I can't help but giggle.

"Besides, men are too old for you, young lady. You need to find yourself a nice, compassionate fella," Grace advises.

"Sure thing, Ma. You'll be waiting for as long as a wet weekend," Liv quips.

"Well, I bloody hope not. It's bad enough now I gotta wait for your brother to settle down," Grace remarks, her tone slightly exasperated.

"Which one?" Liv asks, looking genuinely confused.

"Bradley, you numbnut!" Grace says, shaking her head.

"Oh, I forgot about him. My bad." Liv's casual response makes me blush at the mention of Bradley. I hope Grace doesn't notice, but she momentarily looks at me, and I quickly look away, hoping to hide my embarrassment.

Great.

"Amelia, you're a bright young woman, impeccably polite. We should set you up with our Bradley," Grace suggests, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

My eyes go wide, my breathing falters. Laughter breaks out, but it's not coming from me or Grace. Liv bellows over, laughing loudly.

"Yeah, good one. As if Amelia here would ever date Bradley."

But... I kinda, totally would . I feel a nervous flutter in my stomach, unsure of what to make of this revelation.

"Oh, I-I…" I start to politely decline, but words fail me.

Grace watches me with a knowing smile.

What does that mean? Does she see right through me?

"No way, that would just be so... weird," Liv says with a forced laugh.

I nod in agreement, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, I was just thinking the same."

"Smart girl! I feel sorry for whoever falls for Bradley. He's too work-driven, too in his head," Liv adds, and her words hit me harder than expected .

I feel a pang of sadness, a sense of disappointment at her words. They only solidify the thoughts running in the back of my mind—get over this silly crush, because that's all it'll ever be.

"Now, now. No need to be rude. Your brother is…" Grace begins with a heavy sigh. "A dedicated and focused man, with a heart of gold," she finishes with a warm smile, and I can't help but feel a twinge of warmth in her words.

Maybe I'm not the only one who sees something special in Brad. But it doesn't matter. He's off limits, and I need to keep my feelings in check.

"Anywho, it was… just a suggestion," Grace says, and I look back to her, only to find her eyes on me .

After a few minutes, Liv mentions she has to jet, as she has an appointment in town at Imogen's salon.

"Oh, yes, Imogen! I remember her," I say, recalling our past encounters.

"How can one forget?" Liv laughs. "Blonde hair, legs for days, feisty gal," she adds further.

"True! Tell her I said hi," I say, genuinely.

Grabbing her keys from the kitchen counter, she calls out, "Will do! Hooroo!"

As Grace finishes wiping down the countertops, she turns to me with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling. "You know, Amelia, I'm sure you'll find someone who appreciates you for who you are."

I nod, feeling a surge of gratitude for her words. I'm sure I've heard my own mum say those words before. They feel like a real stretch, though.

"Thanks, Grace. That means a lot."

She then asks if I'll be staying for dinner, but I politely decline. As I make my way to leave, she calls out, "Oh, Amelia, dear. Would you mind grabbing Bradley for me? I heard him come home not long ago, and he hasn't come in yet. He'd probably be out back."

I falter for a moment, my body frozen.

Why me?

I sigh internally, realising I hadn't even realised that he'd be home. How dumb of me.

"If that's alright with you, dear? I would, but I should probably get started on cooking, especially when these Mitchell men can get quite ravenous," she says with a laugh.

Righto.

"Oh, uh, of course. No worries at all," I reply, but my voice sounds squeaky, so I clear my throat.

I find Bradley where Grace said he'd be. Out the back, reclining on one of the pool chairs. Nerves instantly start to kick in. I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself.

Approaching quietly, I remain silent, trying to muster up what to say. I scold myself internally, trying to shake off the jitters .

Come on, Amelia, you can do this .

Before I can gather my thoughts, Bradley's deep voice slices through the quiet, making me jump a little.

"You planning to just stand there all day?" he asks, not turning from his view of the fields.

My heart skips a beat at his words, and I feel a rush of panic. I open my mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a jumble of words.

"Oh, um, no. I mean, I was just… your mother, she, uh, asked me to find you," I blurt out, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I mentally kick myself for sounding so awkward. Why can't I ever talk to him without sounding like a bumbling fool?

"Well, here I am," he replies, his tone as gruff as ever. Seriously, does he ever not sound grumpy? What's got his engine revving today? I wonder why he might be feeling this way? Maybe he stubbed his toe or had a bad breakfast.

Does he even eat breakfast?

"What does my mother need?"

Trying to regain my composure, I manage to squeak out, "She said dinner will be ready soon."

He just nods, yet he makes no effort to get up, and I feel a wave of uncertainty wash over me. What do I do now? I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my palms starting to sweat.

Oh, great, sweaty palms, just what I need right now.

Okay, Amelia, breathe. You can do this. Just act casual, like it's no big deal. But how does one act casual around Captain Grumps over there ?

"I can practically hear your thoughts racing, Amelia," he says suddenly, and I realise he knows it's me. Duh, who else would it be? Smooth move, brain.

I laugh nervously. Well, at least he didn't hear the circus going on in my head. Yet.

"You gonna sit? Because if you're gonna just stand there, you might as well leave," he quips, his tone abrupt.

My goodness. Way to make me feel welcome, Bradley.

"What is up your ass today?" I blurt out before I can stop myself.

He turns his head slightly, slowly, his eyes sweeping over me, a hint of a smirk on his lips. Great, now I've probably offended him.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing," he sighs. "Please, sit." He gestures to the chair beside him. "Sorry, I'm being a dick," he adds.

I slowly sink into the chair next to him, feeling his gaze lingering on me the whole time. Eventually, we settle into silence, and I find myself enjoying the peace. The birds chirping loudly around us drown out any lingering thoughts, and being outside in nature's embrace feels surprisingly serene. So, I close my eyes, soaking in all the sounds with a deep sigh.

"Are you... good?" Bradley's voice cuts through the quiet, with a hint of amusement.

"Are you?" I respond, keeping my eyes shut.

"Touché." He chuckles softly.

Opening my eyes, I gaze up at the tall trees above us, their leaves swaying gently in the breeze. "What are you—"

"Shh... Just look up and take a moment to appreciate the leaves," I gently interrupt.

He clears his throat. "The leaves?"

"Yes, Brad. Shh." We lapse back into silence.

"Listen to the birds, just breathe in the air," I continue after a pause. "I do this sometimes when my thoughts are racing, or when I feel overwhelmed."

I wonder if his thoughts are always racing like mine sometimes do. There's so much I know about him, yet so little at the same time. Over the years, I've noticed little quirks of his—how he always straightens his watchband when he's lost in thought, meticulously adjusting it until it's perfectly aligned. Or the way he slightly tilts his head when he's listening intently to someone, his eyes narrowing just a fraction, as if he's trying to absorb every word.

There's this faint crinkle at the corners of his eyes when he's amused, like he's trying not to smile too widely. Even the way he pauses before answering questions, like he's carefully considering his words, reveals layers I haven't fully unravelled. There's also how he taps his foot impatiently when he's waiting, or how he subtly clenches his jaw when he seems frustrated. Like right now, as I watch him sitting on the chair, his brows are furrowed and his jaw is clenched, clearly showing his frustration.

"My thoughts aren't racing, though," he counters, but there's a hint of uncertainty in his tone.

"Yeah, and I'm a unicorn," I retort, a playful jab lacing my words.

Bradley chuckles softly, the tension between us easing slightly.

I can't help but smile, hearing that sound. It's like a rare glimpse of a softer side of him, a side that's usually hidden behind his gruff exterior.

"Alright, just stare at the leaves, or close your eyes if you prefer, and focus on your breathing. In and out," I instruct gently, keeping my eyes fixed on the trees above.

His presence beside me is like a comforting warmth on a chilly day, but I resist the urge to steal a glance, my nerves fluttering like trapped butterflies in my stomach.

"Are your thoughts racing? Feeling overwhelmed?" he asks quietly after a moment.

"No," I reply softly. Lies. "I'm doing this for you."

"For me?" he echoes, surprised.

"Yes. Just try it," I urge gently.

As the sounds of just birds and the rustling of leaves fill the air, a warm breeze sweeps over me, bringing a sense of calm.

"Is it working?" I ask in a hushed tone, barely audible above the rustling leaves. He doesn't reply right away, and when I start to turn my head to meet his gaze, I find his eyes already locked on mine.

I freeze, startled by the intensity in his eyes. A faint smile quirks his lips, sending a flutter through my chest.

"Yeah, it's working," he finally answers, his voice steady and calm.

Heat rises to my cheeks. Quickly, I look away, focusing on my breathing and the serene sounds of nature around us.

But no matter how hard I try, all I can think about is how his gaze warmed me up and that quick smile on his lips.

"You look lost in thought," she says.

Liv's over at my place for a girls' night, and we're lounging on my couch, devouring Chinese takeout while Love Actually plays in the background. Thoughts of Bradley from today keep creeping in—his intense stare, his serious demeanour—it's all swirling around in my head.

I widen my eyes and quickly shake my head. "Oh... what? No, it's nothing."

Liv chuckles, clearly not buying my denial. "You sound just like Bradley. That's his go-to line whenever I ask what's on his mind. ‘Nothing. None of your business,'" she mimics, nailing his gruff tone perfectly.

We divert our attention back to the movie. Onscreen, Hugh Grant's character is dancing through 10 Downing Street, trying to charm the girl he likes. It's a sweet and romantic scene, making Liv sigh dreamily.

"You know, girl, when are you going to let some romance into your life?" Liv teases lightly.

I shift uncomfortably. "I don't know, Liv. I'm just taking it easy. Happy as I am."

She rolls her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please, spare me the ‘I'm forever alone' speech. No one is happy alone forever. I mean, maybe some people. But we're not those people. You're like a fine wine, darling. Your time will come. In the meantime, let's get you a cat."

"No way!" I say with a chuckle.

Liv grins mischievously. "Oh, come on, think of the Instagram likes!"

"No Instagram, remember?"

"Ugh. You are such a hermit. No wonder you haven't dated anyone."

I scoff playfully. "Oh yeah? What about you, then? Any love life updates?"

"Hey, no, no. Interrogation is my territory. Besides, my heart belongs to pizza and Netflix."

"But seriously, anything going on? Don't say nothing, that's my line," I tease, and Liv laughs.

"Ugh, nothing exciting since I came back from Sydney. But who knows? Maybe the right person is closer than we think."

I steal a glance at her, my mind inevitably drifting back to Bradley. Could Liv be on to something?

Could he be the one?

Despite my thoughts, I force a smile, grateful for Liv's unwavering optimism. "Yeah, we'll see."