Hearth & Honeyis painted neatly on the door.
Inside, the air smells like bread and citrus and something sweet I can't quite place. Lila gets a vanilla latte, a chocolate brownie, and a pecan plait. I order tea and watch the barista to keep myself from peering through the window for a glimpse of a certain alpha.
Which is why, when I take my drink and turn around, I collide with a student I vaguely recognize from the group. My teacup wobbles on the tray, liquid splashes over the side, and I let out a squeal that makes everyone in the café turn around.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there,” I say, as my spoon clatters onto the floor.
I bend down to retrieve it as the student makes the same move, and I hit his chest again with the tray. This time, the drink doesn’t survive. I watch as tea splashes the front of his formal shirt and waistcoat before he can dodge it.
“Oh my god,” I say, trying to catch the remains of the liquid on the tray. “Is it hot? Are you okay?”
He stands there, staring down at his stained clothes, unable to meet my eyes. “Fortunately, there was ample time between thewater being poured into the cup and it hitting me for it to not quite be at scalding level.”
I want to laugh. I almost do but stop myself when I realize he’s being serious. “I’ll pay for your clothes to be cleaned,” I offer.
“That won’t be necessary.” His voice softens as he straightens and looks at me for the first time. Then his gaze drifts to the empty cup sitting in a puddle of chamomile tea. “Let me get you another drink.”
I blink. “I threw my tea all over you.”
His scent reaches me then, old paper and winter berries, and my stomach clenches. His narrow features are handsome, his pale eyes so hypnotic I could overlook the embroidered waistcoat.
He isn’t listening. He is already ordering a replacement drink for me, and another to go for himself. “Perhaps it will be safer if I bring yours over,” he says, his tone neutral.
“Yes. Perhaps.” I nod once and scurry to the table by the window where Lila isn’t even trying to suppress a smile. “Don’t say a word,” I grind out as I sit down.
“I wasn’t going to.” She raises her hands in defense then leans closer. “He’s cute though. I mean if you had to spill your drink on someone?—”
“What happened to not saying a word?”
“Sorry.” She giggles and then sucks her lips in as the alpha appears beside our table with my cup of tea.
“Perhaps we’ll bump into each other again around campus,” he says.
“Not literally, I hope,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
Lila barely contains her laughter until he has left the café and walked past the window. Then she picks up the cup and checks underneath the saucer.
“What are you looking for?” I ask.
“His number. I was certain he’d have written it down and left it underneath the cup.”
“He could’ve ended up in hospital being treated for scalds.” I close my eyes briefly. Day two, and I almost scarred an alpha for life.
“Exactly my point. You must’ve made an impression.” Lila bites into her brownie. “So, what’s his name?”
“I don’t know.” I raise my cup to my lips and inhale. It helps a little.
“You didn’t ask his name when you apologized?”
I replay the conversation in my head and it’s almost a blank. “I don’t remember apologizing.” I must’ve. I’m sure I did. At least, I hope I did.
“Perfect reason to speak to him again then.” Lila slants her eyes at me from behind her brownie.
When we leave the café, we explore Elderwood Hollow. We dip in and out of The Olde Curiosity Shoppe (where Lila buys a ballerina marionette), Mrs. Bee’s Sweet Shoppe (where we both buy lemon candies filled with sherbet), and The Book Shop which, strangely, doesn’t have the extra ‘e’ on the end, (where Lila buys a cozy mystery and I buy a book calledThe Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches).
As we approach the clock tower in the middle of the main street, I spot the guy from the café talking to another student. Another alpha. Effortlessly cool in faded denims and sporty polo, long hair curling around his ears, and an easy smile that makes me bite on my bottom lip without realizing.
“Oh, look,” Lila doesn’t even attempt to keep her voice down. “There’s the guy wearing your chamomile tea stain.”
