Chapter 1

Chapter One

Avery

THE KEY IN my hand weighs me down like an anchor. A single house key shouldn't feel as dense as a boulder, but when it drops into my hand I tilt forward like it might topple me to the ground.

"Are you sure?" I say.

The tall, dark-haired man before me nods. Albert Carrington never does anything halfway. He never says anything he doesn't mean. But I still press him for reassurance.

"I can't afford this," I say.

I shoot a nervous look at the house we stand before. Two stories. Three bedrooms. A basement we've transformed into a thriving café for students from the nearby university. Even if I wasn't a sophomore at City University of Montridge, there's no way I could afford this place.

"I don't require payment," Albert says.

"But…"

"The mortgage is paid off," Albert says. "I'll have the utilities forwarded to my new address. But regardless of your answer, I won't be living here. Either the home will stand empty, or it will have a caretaker, and I'd vastly prefer it have a caretaker."

"Albert, I'm not a caretaker. I'm just a student. I can't live in your house."

"Why not? It will save you money, and it will save me worry. And I presume you mean to host the café here, so someone will need to occupy the home. It ought to be you."

As usual, Albert's logic is unassailable. But I still hesitate to accept his offer. It's a house . Like, an entire freaking house . Who just hands that to someone?

Albert Carrington, that's who.

The guy has so much money that he never has to worry about money. He's also at least half of the reason the Boyfriend Café exists at all. When Rhett dreamed up a café where charming servers drank tea with university students and talked them through their worries, he went right to Albert to ask to use his basement to host it. Since then, Albert has become the official legal owner of the café, even after graduating from the university. He hung around here this year while his boyfriend, David, finished up his degree as well. But with both of them now graduated, Albert has no reason to stay.

None of them have had any reason to stay.

The entire original crew of the Boyfriend Café is gone. They've all graduated. And they've left me behind as their chosen successor. Next year, my junior year, will be my first year running this place without any of them around to help me, and I'm freaking terrified.

Now I have to be the caretaker for Albert's house too?

It's just one more responsibility added to the heap, and it makes the key in my palm weigh a thousand pounds instead of a few grams.

I close my fingers slowly over the key. The Boyfriend Café is mine now. I'm the one who has to make sure the legacy keeps going. No matter how scared and stressed out I am, I have to keep this thing alive. Living in the house above the café could certainly make some of that easier.

"Alright," I say. "I'll do it."

I SPEND THE entire summer getting ready to take over the Boyfriend Café at the start of my junior year at City University of Montridge. My brother Gabriel and his friends have been preparing me for this since before I even officially enrolled at the university, but it's one thing to know I'll take over someday and it's another to actually have to do it. We have new servers this year, a new manager I brought on to help me with administrative tasks, new customers, new teas, new everything.

A few days before my junior year of college begins, I sit in Albert's — no, in my — basement and address the four anxious faces watching me.

I run my dark ponytail through my hand, a nervous tic I've never managed to shed. I look down at the notes I jotted on my phone, but I've reread them so much I have them memorized.

"So," I say, "are we clear?"

I've already run through the schedule. I've already done some practice sessions with the newest server, Henry. I've already cleaned the whole basement twice over, talked to my new manager, assigned everyone their tables, double checked our scheduling for our opening week. I have done every single thing I can to prepare us for this, but some piece of me fears it's not enough.

The four similarly anxious college students before me nod.

"One question," a guy named Cameron says. He has dark eyes and even darker hair. I brought him in last year, despite some reservations, but his brooding bad boy thing turned out to be a hit.

"Yes?" I say.

"Why do I have to be next to him ?" He jabs his thumb at the guy next to him, a perky blond who's all smiles. Julian might seem oblivious to Cameron's ire, but I learned last semester that he's well aware of how much his step-brother (or whatever the hell they are to each other) doesn't like him. He simply enjoys the bickering too much to stop it.

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. "I really don't have time for this right now, you two. Please go fight about it somewhere else."

Cameron folds his arms over his chest and grumbles. Julian chuckles, which doesn't help with Cameron's sour mood. I resolve to ignore both of them. Whatever family spat they have going on, it's not my problem, especially not when I have so much else on my plate this semester.

"Is that all?" I say.

Thankfully, the other two members of the café say nothing, and I dismiss everyone, telling them I'll see them in a few days for our official opening night. I slouch forward in my chair before they even leave. I'm exhausted and the school year hasn't even begun, but what can I do about it? My brother and everyone else left me behind to carry on the legacy of the Boyfriend Café. I've had to find a brand new crew, a brand new manager, a brand new bakery to partner with for the treats we sell alongside the tea. If it falls apart it'll be entirely my fault. I don't have time to not be exhausted.

"Drink," someone says .

I jerk upright and find the new manager, Mia, sitting beside me with a hot cup of tea in her hands. I accept, and immediately the gently floral scent of jasmine tea wraps around me like a warm blanket.

"How did you know this is my favorite?" I say.

"Because you served it when you interviewed me," Mia says. She has a dark ponytail, much like mine, but her eyes match her hair, where mine are far lighter. "Are you okay?"

"Are you interviewing to be a server now?" I say.

She chuckles. "No way. I don't want to deal with customers all night. Sounds stressful. Leave me to my spreadsheets, please. I just wanted to make sure you're doing alright."

I plucked Mia out of C U of M's business school at the end of last year. She worked with me all summer to get us organized well before our opening night in a few days, and as a result, I've become pretty close with her. But I didn't expect to have her checking in on me like this.

"I'm fine," I say.

"Are you sure? Classes haven't even started and you have bags under your eyes."

I pull at the skin around my eyes. "Oh God, do I? Stress will demolish my skincare routine."

Mia rolls her eyes. "As though you aren't the most gorgeous bitch in this basement every night."

Even in my stressed out state, I can't help but wave a hand to indicate my fashionably slinky sweater and long skirt. It's a look that definitely draws attention, but I've been out as queer and non-binary since high school; I'm used to drawing attention. Besides, my loose, long, soft skirt is super comfortable, and I'm not sacrificing my comfort so other people can feel better about what I'm wearing.

"But I'm serious," Mia says. "You're taking on a lot this year. I'll have your back as much as I can, but you have to let me help you, Avery. You have to tell me what's going on."

"I promise you, you know everything that's going on," I say. "I'm not hiding anything from you. I just can't stop worrying about all of it. I really need this year to go well. Otherwise all of the original Boyfriend Café guys will hate me for ruining this."

"They would never hate you," Mia says. "One is your brother. I'm sure they'd want you to have fun and enjoy your college experience instead of working yourself to the bone."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, as though I have time to ‘enjoy my college experience.'"

Mia shoves my shoulder. "You should make time. We won't be young forever. You can't spend your best years doing nothing but working."

"God, I hope this isn't my best years," I grumble.

Of course, Mia hears me .

"You know what I mean," she says. "You should be going to parties, meeting people, hooking up. All that college stuff."

"When in the world would I have time for ‘hooking up?'" I say.

"I don't know. Make time. What are you, a nun?"

"Ew, no. But who am I going to meet? One of our customers? Those are the only people I see besides you and the guys, and I'm not dating one of my servers. Some of us don't have time for the ‘college experience,' and that's just how it is."

Mia scowls, but we've been through this debate plenty of times before, and thankfully tonight it seems like she's tired enough to let the matter drop.

"Fine," she says. "But I'm getting you out of this basement at least a couple times this semester. There are a couple queer bars around here where you can get in before you're twenty-one. You just can't drink."

"What's the point then?"

"To dance? To meet someone? To see a drag show? There are plenty of reasons to go to a bar besides drinking."

"Won't they check ID?"

"Not if you go to the performance area where they put on shows and not the bar area. Anyway, stop arguing with me about a hypothetical night out that hasn't even happened. The point is, you need to do more than stress about this damn café."

I sigh, but don't argue. Part of me knows she's right. Part of me dreads looking back on my college years with regret for all that lost time. But I simply can't fathom how I'm going to get my degree, keep the café alive, and "hook up" all at the same time.

I gulp down the rest of my tea while Mia goes over a couple minor points with me. Then we finally leave the café behind. I turn off the fairy lights strung across the ceiling and lock the basement door behind me. Mia and I follow the path that curls from the backyard around the side of the house. But when we reach the front lawn, we both pause, startled to find a car parked in front of my house.

"Expecting a guest?" Mia says. "Damn, maybe I was wrong about you, Avery. Inviting guys over before the semester has even begun."

"Whatever, Mia."

The guy in front of my house seems startled to see us. The hood of his car is open, and he's clearly stuck where he parked.

"I think he broke down," I say. "I'll see if he needs help, but I'm sure it's fine."

"What if he's a creep or something?" Mia says.

"I'll be okay. Go home, alright? We can't both be exhausted before the semester begins. "

"Fine," Mia says. "But don't forget what I said. I'm getting you out of that basement this year. We're going to have fun, no matter what."

"I don't think ultimatums are typically fun."

"Avery," Mia says in warning.

We hug, and she heads to her car. I wait until she drives off, then turn my attention to the stranger stranded outside my house. Because it's not enough for me to have my own personal disasters to take care of. Apparently I'm going to help strangers through their disasters too. Well, that is kind of the ethos of the Boyfriend Café. A cup of tea and a friendly face to listen to your woes.

My work has already begun.