10. Gia

ten

Gia

North and I stroll down a quaint street to the coffee shop that, to my surprise, has recently been bought out by a new franchise called The Coffee Loft. For an early Saturday evening, the shop is extremely bustling. We pass through the heavy door and are instantly met with the aroma of the deepest roasted coffee and cinnamon, making saliva swell in my mouth. "This place is adorable," I coo, taking in the new remodel and the rows of unique coffee cups hung on the wall, and finally latching my gaze on the chalkboard menu on the back wall.

With every possible flavor anyone could dream up, I have no idea how to pick just one. We shuffle our feet until we get to the front of the line, where we are greeted by a blonde woman with a ponytail pinned on the top of her head. "Chai guy, how are you?"

"Good evening, Portia, I'm good." He slowly pulls out his wallet while keeping his attention forward, "And you."

"I'm still brewing." They both laugh at the pun, and I smile, already feeling welcome.

North extends a hand toward me. "You can go ahead and order."

Without having had much of a chance to read the rather extensive menu, I eeny-meeny-moe the fall flavors in my head until I land on the last one. "Ah, I'll try the frosted maple latte."

"Great choice." The barista, who I now know is named Portia, punches some digits into her tablet and shifts her gaze to North. "And your usual spiced chai?"

"Yes, ma'am." He taps his debit card to the scanner before I have a chance to offer to pay.

"You guys can grab a seat, and I'll bring them right out." Portia grins at us before she turns her back to pour our milk.

"She has a nickname for you." I turn and whisper under my breath. "You must come here often."

"Yeah, it's the closest place to the school." We shimmy down the narrow aisle of tables until we get to the only open booth in the back. We both slide in, and North continues the conversation, "They're swamped in the mornings, and I usually don't have time to wait. Somehow, I made this a daily habit on my way home from work. Portia is one of the owners, and she's always so nice."

"And you are addicted to the spiced chai?"

"Addicted makes it sound so negative. Let's just say I have a high chai absorption rate, and I'm not much of a coffee drinker. I love the smell but can't stand the taste."

"Don't like coffee. I'm not sure if we can be friends." I bite back a fit of laughter as I recall when I almost made him vomit so many years ago. "I remember when you grabbed my straight espresso by mistake."

"Yes," he quips, his cheeks growing pink. "That was the second time I tried it, and it was not successful. Ever since then I've stuck to the chai."

"What?" I tilt my head closer, pretending to have a hard time hearing. I couldn't help but notice the way North's eyes light up when I tease him, so I keep going. "That menu is packed with amazing flavors, and you haven't tried anything else?"

"That's sort of how I am." His easy smile falls into place, and it does everything to make me feel comfortable, while pulling me to him. He looks exactly how he used to, still the most handsome man I've ever seen. He tacks on, "If you haven't noticed, I like my routines."

"How would I know that?" I tease, as so many sparks of connection fire between our gazes. It feels amazing to banter with North. "I haven't seen you in years."

"I guess we have Rocco's junk to thank for bringing us together again."

"I guess." My gaze falls to my lap, where I had started to pick at my fingernail. I still my hands and ask softly, "Do you talk to him much?"

"More than I'd like." He blows out a hard breath right as Portia arrives and quietly slides our drinks onto the edge of our table. We both take our cups, and I eagerly take a sip of mine, while he places a palm over the top of his lid. "At first, I didn't really believe he did all that bad stuff, and that's what made it hard for me to see his life fall apart."

"Same," I quip. "At first, I couldn't fathom he was that person, either."

"When he moved back to town and bought that car dealership, I was surprised because I had assumed he went broke paying for the lawyers. I tried to come around as a friend, but there were an awful lot of closed-door deals going on. Then out of nowhere he became the town mayor by that landslide write-in vote, and I was blown away. How can anyone with a criminal record be in his position? He must be paying everyone off, and I still don't have a clue where he gets his funding. I don't want anything to do with that."

North shifts his jaw side to side, as if he's grinding his teeth. "The kicker is that he is practically my boss because his dealership is the biggest sponsor to my football team. As much as I'd like never to see him again, a couple times a year I have to take a photo with him, or sit by him at some booster dinner."

"Yeah, I've seen his name in the paper a few times for his support of the football team." It doesn't sting to hear that North doesn't talk to Rocco anymore. I'd mostly gone numb to any news about Rocco. He was the golden child growing up, and that would have been enough of a shadow to live in, but when he made it to the NFL, his whole personality changed. "We don't have to talk about him anymore. I think we've both tried to move out of his shadow long enough."

"What would you like to talk about?" His lips curl up, higher on one side. "What have you been finding at your dad's?"

"Well, aside from the sports junk I found at the house, I also found a collection of bird houses. Say, you like biology. Do you think your students would maybe like twenty-seven bird houses? It could be a class project. Adopt a bird forest," I ramble, hoping I'm persuading him. "Extra credit if you get a bird to move in. Think of the options."

His laugh is instant. "Sure, I can take them off your hands if that makes you happy." My gaze locks with his. He's so dialed in to me right now, sitting across from me. Not at all like the last few dates I'd been on where the guy had been distracted.

Not that this is a date.

It's just coffee.

He takes a slow drink of his chai and lowers the cup back to the table. "Okay, so we have football trophies and bird houses. Anything else?"

"The better question is what didn't I find. He has a collection of everything from rocks and seashells to teapots and towels. It never ends."

"And he's fine with you giving away all his stuff?"

"No." I fight back a small tear as this is the first time I've been able to let out any stress over this predicament. Hearing my dad had been trapped by his stuff had been overwhelming, and I have so much guilt over not helping sooner. "He's not fine with it, but I'm doing it anyway. I booked a therapy appointment for him to try to get to the bigger issue, and he is so upset with me for doing that, but I have to put my foot down. I love him. I don't need to have a Lifeline Alert about him being swallowed up."

"It's okay, you had no idea it was that bad." His hand slides across the table, and he gently places his palm on mine. "You're doing a good job." He says it so convincingly I actually believe him. "If you want," he goes on, "I can stop over tomorrow and help take out a load. I mean, that is if your dad doesn't mind me helping."

"Dad doesn't mind you helping at all. He's always had a soft spot for you." Not as big as the soft spot I have. "We'd both love it if you can help."

"It's settled. I'll come over in the morning after Sunday service." He sneaks a look at his watch, the sparkle in his eyes dimming a little. "It's almost closing time. I hate to get kicked out." His words are slow and measured, like he's torn.

I flash a look at the clock on my phone. A half hour had gone by, but it felt like five minutes. "Oh, I didn't realize it was getting so late." I shimmy out of the booth. "I didn't mean to keep you so long. I truly was just dropping off a box, but I enjoyed your company."

"Don't apologize. The pleasure is all mine." He gives me a crooked smile. My toes curl as we stroll together toward the door, extending our goodbye way longer than it needs to be. "Thank you for the coffee."

"You're welcome. Thank you for having coffee," he replies.

I can't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over me. We follow the streetlamps back to the school. The lamps cast a warm glow on the sidewalks, and something about the moment feels a little magical. We walk side by side, but I catch myself staring at his strong arms, wondering what it would be like to link an arm into his. Before my cheeks warm, I let a sigh out, figuring it's best to wait for him to make his move. "Thank you for showing me the Coffee Loft. I'll have to try them again. Next time I think I'll try the cherry mocha." I stop in front of dad's truck, and turn toward him, enjoying how easy it is to be with him.

"I'm sure the next time I go, I'll have the spiced chai." A glimmer sparks from the corner of his eyes, and it almost melts me.

"Thanks for walking me back to my car." My gaze paces to the truck and then back to North. I don't want to get in the truck. Behind him, the streetlamp glows, setting the ambiance as the light wind tousles the tips of his hair, doing everything to make this moment feel romantic.

"You're welcome. It was easy since you parked next to mine." His eyes bounce off his car, and land back on mine. "Well, I'm leaving now. Tell your dad, hi."

"I will." I place one hand on my door, still not wanting to get in the truck, despite my cheeks starting to sting in the chilly air. North's standing so close, our breaths waft together as his gaze bounces around my face.

"Night." His feet are cemented, and he's not moving.

"See you tomorrow." I slide only one foot close to the truck, hoping he'll maybe try to kiss me, or shoot, ask me to hang out longer. It's really not that late for Saturday night.

"Yeah, I'll call before I come over."

"Sounds good." I slowly open my door, and I climb inside, my heart sinking a little. "Bye."

"Yeah. Nice seeing you again." His feet still don't move, and it's not my imagination that he's wanting to ask me something else, but it's just not working. It's beyond awkward now.

"Nice seeing you, too." I put my hand on my door, closing it a bit.

"Okay. Bye." He turns toward his car, and I quickly shut the door before we invent another fifteen ways to say goodbye. I never remember him being that uneasy before, but at least he wasn't as shy as he used to be.

He definitely is still thoughtful, and as good looking as ever. I turn the truck on and steer forward, seeing that North's in his car, politely waiting for me to pull out. He waves. I wave back. I move in front of him, and wave again. In the rear view mirror his reflection waves back at me.