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“But, Twinnie...”

“Elizabeth. Leave it.”

Lizzie gasped, one hand flying to her chest, the other wagging back and forth in disapproval.

“How dare you. Don’t full name me.”

“Beth. Drop it.”

“Can’t,” Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest. “Not everyone is going to be like Victoria—that skank.”

Charlotte exhaled slowly. Logically, she knew that. Had paid a perfectly good therapist a considerable sum to help her know that. It changed very little about the fact that her heart grew walls and she developed the good sense of a woman who had learned, at some cost, to stop gambling on her love life.

Lizzie softened, moving to perch on the arm of Charlotte’s chair, close enough for their arms to touch.

“Just be open. You never know when lightning is going to strike.”

A pair of warm eyes and a dimple on either side of a beaming smile moved through her mind unbidden, the way they had a habit of doing for the last few months. And the bruised part of her that was still, despite everything, foolishly and inconveniently hopeful… wondered if lightning had already done just that.

2

ALI

Ali loved opening the coffee shop, even though she couldn’t be considered a morning person. Leaving the cozy warmth of her bed seemed a daily tragedy. Ever since she could remember, her dreams manifested vividly and full of untold wonders; while the monotonous drudgery of her typical workday lacked the same luster. Waking up and seizing the day never seemed her strong suit... until recently. Every morning at 7:05AM, Charlotte Davenport would walk through the door of the Blend & Brew and give her a smile dazzling enough to make her insides fizz.

Boston was the fifth—no, sixth—city she’d lived in over the last ten years. Finding a place to call home existed as her own personal mission. Something always seemed to be missing in every city. Ever since her mother died, that is. Each new location seemed to hold a spark; but inevitably it would wink out, leaving her with a loneliness that never fully eased.

She made her arrival in Boston just after Christmas with her most cherished possessions: her cat, Willow, all her art supplies, and a new tattoo etched into her skin. A few days later, she landed a job at the perfect, quiet coffee shop.

Originally, she planned to focus on her art for the majority of the week and work a few closing or midday shifts. But everything changed when during her second week, she covered an opener’s morning shifts. Halfway through the week, Charlotte Davenport glided through the door and ordered two extra shots of espresso in her latte, leaving Ali thunderstruck because the woman was breathtaking. Bone structure carved from the finest marble featuring high cheekbones and a jawline most people would kill for. Ocean eyes churning with hidden emotion and shifting intelligence. The crypts and furrows in her irises creating a starburst pattern seemed to twinkle when a sensual smirk tugged at her full lips.

Seeing her striding through the door again the next day and the next became something to look forward to. And when the time came to switch back to evenings, Ali asked to open in the mornings instead. The CEO brightened her mornings Monday through Thursday for almost six months, modeling an endless presentation of professionally tailored suits and fashionable business attire. The first time she appeared with her hair down in its natural state, Ali forgot how to breathe. Disguised by an array of elegant updos, the sight of the inky cascade of sleek waves had Ali itching to run her fingers through it.

In the second week, playful banter and conversation ensued after overcoming her starstruck speechlessness. Something like an acquaintanceship sprouted between them after the third week.

So yes, Ali enjoyed mornings. But not because she was a morning person.

The gentle melodies of Wren’s usual choice in playlist filtered through the air, blending with the ever-present aroma of ground coffee beans. Wren started the same week as Ali and the two hit it off as friends.

“What’re you fixin’ her today?” Wren asked, halfway through brewing the second batch of ice coffee.

Ali froze midway through her mixing.

“What do you mean?”

Looking up, she eyed the empty shop. Tucked into a row of small boutiques, they got a decent amount of foot traffic. Exposed brick, wooden beams, and hardwood floors created a very cozy atmosphere.

“Oh, I don’t know, the knockout that comes in every morning. The one you always have coffee ready for.”

Azure eyes studied her as Wren pulled her short platinum blonde hair into an adorable tiny ponytail, two strands not quite long enough to reach, tucked behind her ears.

“The one you smile oh-so-brightly for.”

“I do not⁠—”

She did.

A huff of frustration left her as she went back to mixing, steam wafted into the air in delicate wisps.