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"Thanks." I unclench my teeth enough I'm not muttering.
Ethan no
ds. He moves to the pickup window and pours a splash of almond milk in his iced coffee.
I clear my throat.
He laughs. "Needs more?"
"It's yours."
"Last I heard, Violet Valentine is the foremost expert on almond milk in cold brew iced coffee."
This time, I laugh. "Well, in my expert opinion…" I take the carton and pour until the drink is about to overflow. I take a sip to test the flavor. It's creamy enough but it's not quite sweet. I pick up the simple syrup. "You need a dash of this too."
"Not that you're going to drink half of this."
"Of course not."
I add a few splashes of simple syrup. Ethan is looking at me with that same smile. And I can feel my cheeks at my ears.
My chest is light, easy. I put the simple syrup back. I grab a lid and a straw. Still, he's looking at me with affection.
"Ethan…" I've got no clue how to finish the sentence. This feels like how things used to be.
His fingers brush mine as he takes the drink. Then he wraps his lips around the straw. My eyes refuse to leave those lips. My brain refuses to do anything but remember how those lips felt wrapped around mine.
Or sucking on my nipple.
Or between my legs.
"Here." He offers me the iced coffee.
"It's yours."
"Tell me if it's perfect."
I cock a brow. "In my expert opinion?"
He nods. His smile widens.
"I do suffer for my research." Again, my fingers brush his. I rise to my tiptoes to take a sip. It's perfect. I offer him a thumbs up.
The barista calls my order. I grab my drink and take a taste. It's exactly as I remember it.
The familiarity is comforting.
And the drink itself is fucking fantastic.
I offer Ethan a sip.
He takes it then hands the tea latte back. "Still tastes like grass."
"It's good."
"If you insist."
There's foam all over his lip. I could lick it off. I could lick it off, then throw him on the bench seat in the middle of the room, tear off his clothes, and lick every inch of him.
