Chapter 4

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"Can I ask you something?" Keaton asked before turning off the light, casting The Drip in darkness.

The five words halted Amila's stride to the door. She'd just finished a five-hour shift of steaming, brewing, and stirring; all the various milk alternatives were still running through her mind like breaking news on a ticker tape. A yawn formed at the base of her throat and a numb pain radiated in her calves. She wanted to promptly say no but that would only be uncomfortable since he was doing her a favor. She hated awkward silences and sharing a car ride with someone was the awkwardest of situations that even music couldn't rehab.

"I guess." She shrugged, the movement graduated to roll once the muscle in her neck made its tightness known.

He took measured steps away from the light switch behind the counter to where she stood near the door. "How mad is Deja? Is she just annoyed or is she full-blown furious? I don't know. And she won't talk to be me other than handing out slick comments; which I'm used to but usually they're delivered with a cute smirk and I'm—"

He stopped and so did the gesticulations of his hands as the bright headlights of a turning vehicle drenched the corner coffee shop and showed him the confusion on her face.

"I'm rambling. I'm sorry." He glued his palms together beaming in sheer remorse. "She just drives me crazy."

"Don't feel bad." Amila quietly chortled. "She has that effect on a lot of people."

"You mean she's dating someone."

Amila shrugged, her eyebrows drawn together. "Ah...Deja's dating habits are shared with me because we're friends and it's not my place to—"

"Oh, no." He shook his head abruptly. "I don't want to intrude on the sacred code of friendship. I just wanted to know how mad she was so I'd know how big of an apology to give."

Amila hooked her thumbs on the strap of her bag that went across her body growing more curious by the second. She didn't know anything about anything that went on between the two. All she knew was the three of them had a great working relationship and even the other two dudes who worked the early morning shifts were cool that they would sometimes text mostly about work issues but sometimes about customers that aggravated or entertained them. They were a tight unit. A team. So, when Deja gave him the cold shoulder the other day she knew something was amiss.

"Look." She started. "I don't know what you did but—"

He jumped in, "I told her she smelled like coffee in the middle of—" He stopped as if he said too much and scratched at a phantom itch on the back of his neck. "Uh...I thought it was sweet. Coffee smells good."

"Deja hates coffee. She drinks tea." Amila informed trying to hide her smile. She found his worry and dishevelment kind of adorable. "But I think a simple apology would do and add a bouquet of chrysanthemums, they're her favorite and ya'll should be just fine. And back to doing whatever it is that ya'll be doing."

A smile crept up his face as he nodded to her words and seemed as if he was making a mental note of her advice.

"Thanks." He started to give her a hug then stopped, contained his eagerness, and pulled his keys out of his pocket instead. "It's Sunday. I should get you home before—"

"The flower shop closes." She finished for him as he pushed the door open.

The light laugh he emitted as he held the door open as she strode outside to let her know she was one hundred percent accurate. He was going to go on a hunt for chrysanthemums once he dropped her off at the loft.

She didn't pay any mind to the black-suited man opening the door of a sleek foreign sedan but once a familiar person exited from the backseat her footfalls down the sidewalk ceased and her hand froze halfway finished pulling the hair tie off her ponytail.

"I know I'm late." Dominic hurried out as he rushed over to her.

"Late for...what?" She asked, sliding the tie from the remainder of her hair and letting it fall down her back. She fought the urge to sigh in relief so that he wouldn't think it pertained to him.

"My assistant had my personal phone and I was in meetings all this weekend. All-day." Dominic stopped and turned to the man at her side. "Dominic James and you are?"

Keaton accepted the man's outstretched hand and introduced himself with a quick handshake. "Owner, boss, and her ride home."

"I can take her home." Dominic immediately offered.

"No." She abruptly declared. "It's fine. Keaton's got me."

Dominic took a measured glance at the man who was only a couple of inches shorter than him and swallowed hard before shifting his sight back down to her. "Please, Mila, let me take you home." He sat his hand against his chest. "I'll be a gentleman and good company. You'll have fun, I swear."

"Uh..." She sounded as she thought. Keaton was doing her favor and he was the safe choice her brain knew she should go with but Dominic's offer was the choice every nerve in her body insisted she accepted.

She inhaled the woodsy night air as the men waited on her decision and thought about her conversation with Deja the other day. Get back to living. Be spontaneous. And she got her answer.

"Keaton." She turned to the man. "There's a flower boutique on the corner and I'm sure if you head there now you can make it before closing and by then Deja should be home from her gag."

Keaton nodded then glared at Dominic. "Be a man of your word. Be a gentleman."

"Absolutely," Dominic affirmed with a bow of his head and once the man sauntered down the slightly busy sidewalk he turned to her letting his eyes drink in her standing before him. "Have you had dinner?"

She smirked, setting her hands on her lank waist. "I thought you were taking me home."

"I am." He started rolling up the sleeves of his button-down as if the warm night was finally getting to him. "But I can't just take you home with an empty stomach. Are you hungry?'

She thought about the one protein bar she scarfed down while she got lost in a book on break. "Famished. What about you?"

He grinned then answered. "I could eat."

"Dominic James." She feigned shock, clutching fake pearls knowing she had some very real pearls locked safe in a box at the loft with other keepsakes of her past. "We're eating food and only food."

He held up his hands innocently. "You're the one that went there not me."

"Yeah, whatever." She playfully rolled her eyes knowing he meant exactly what she thought. Their first date wasn't just composed of good food and conversation there was some kissing and touching; touching that she missed and those lips. Her eyes traveled to the region on his face that was the location of some vivid nightly dreams. She missed those lips and the magic they could perform.

He chuckled at her response and then motioned to the car. She strolled by him but before she entered his hands latched on the sides of her waist and his lips lowered to her ear.

"But if you want more than food..." He started, his voice lifting the faint hairs on the back of her neck and lighting a match to rekindle the flame that burned deep within her. "...Just let me know."

She bit down on her lip fighting the urge to lean back against him and give him a three-letter answer.

She pulled out of his grasp, lowering into the car and ignoring the need and hunger that grew between her legs. She crossed them as he entered behind her then said, "I want a burger. A juicy burger."

"Then that's what we'll have." He said before telling his driver where to go.

Amila buckled her seatbelt and stayed near the door where she was safe from giving in to temptation again...unlike last time. 





Do you think Amila was right for not giving Keaton the rundown of Deja's dating life?

Is coffee a good thing to smell like or does Deja have the right to be mad at him?

Was Dominic only referring to food or was Amila jumping to conclusions?

How do you think their impromptu dinner will go?

What temptation do you think Amila gave into on their first night that she's trying not to duplicate?




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