Nine-Tenths

Thirty-Eight

I turn off the alarm, annoyed it's morning already. Everything aches in the best way possible, and I think I love you again. I should say it. But then he'll kiss me, and neither of us have brushed our teeth yet.

"I've made a terrible mistake," Dav says, haunted and miserable.

"I will yeet you off the side of the bed if you mean the sex."

Dav's eyes pop. "Of course not!"

"I figured." I kiss the tip of his nose because it's there.

Dav reels me in, mouth going to the hickey he left on my neck. Someone else is trying to rise to the occasion, but we honestly don't have time. I peel back and try to will away my semi.

Of course, because this is my stupid life, the brain weasels strike as soon as my feet are on the floor. "Did you roast the beans to make me think I owed you—?"

Dav grabs my hand. "Never that. Hoarding is in my nature, but not by deceitful means."

"Okay." I try to let go of the fear I didn't realize I was holding onto until just then.

Dav scoots out of bed. "I did it because I wanted to make you laugh." He shakes away the haunted look that crosses his face. "I don't regret it, but I–"

"Hey," I say. "It's nothing huge, just some beans, right?"

"Right," he echoes, but I can tell his heart isn't in it.

"Coffee."

"Coffee." He follows me into the kitchen as placidly as a duckling.

Buck-naked coffee can be a thing, right?

Right.

"The problem is, I should have stopped with peacocking for you," he mumbles into my neck, plastering himself to my back as I conscript my French press into service. "I knew it, and I did it anyway."

Turns out I'm not the only one sporting some morning glory. Well. Hadi can't be mad if we're a little late. After all, it's Dav's last day. As we wait for the kettle to boil, I turn and push Dav just back far enough to give me room. He grabs the edge of the sink as I kneel.

He reaches down, one hand cupping my cheek.

"It's worth it, though. I love you," Dav says, simple and honest.

Dammit!

The fucker beat me to it.

***

Hadi is putting in a double batch of scones when Dav and I slink in.

"You don't have to be here." She points at Dav.

"The roaster hasn't arrived. Someone is required to turn the crank." He's bouncing on his toes, rolling up his sleeves, setting up efficiently, like he's been doing it this way the whole time. He's humming.

"Turn down the sunshine, Prince Charming," Hadi snipes. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you—" she turns to look at me and squinches her face. "Ugh. Okay, congrats. Yay orgasms."

"I'm gonna go hide in the front now," I say around my own sunshine smile.

I'm most of the way through prep when the door chimes. A group of maybe half a dozen people come inside, and I curse myself for forgetting to lock the door behind us.

"I'm pretty sure the sign says 'closed', folks." I duck around the counter, and smash into some sort of invisible... something. The sheer force of the people entering the café makes me stumble. You know the way humid air slaps your lungs as soon as you leave an air conditioned building? It's like that, but in reverse. Every atom feels magnetized, like I need to grab the counter to keep from being sucked toward them. There's just so much... presence.