Page 4

Brenna

I try really hard not to stare. I really do. Instead I busy myself wiping down tables, tidying up the sugar packets and generally keeping busy in the bleak coffee shop I work at. Don’t get me wrong, I love working here. I’d just prefer it if there was a little more…color. Afterlife Coffee isn’t as bleak as it could be, but it could definitely be a little brighter. It’s all low lighting, leather booths and chairs, the dark walls decorated with art prints of ravens and skulls and moths. It definitely has an emo vibe. And I definitely don’t. I smooth my hands down my cute lady bird dress and spin on my black ballet flats as my eyes betray me. It’s just so…hard. He’s beautiful. Smooth dark skin, high cheekbones, close cropped hair and a face that belongs on a spicy romance novel. Shoot! He saw me!

I quickly drop to my knees in the booth I’m “working at” and I busy myself on the floor. Doing what? Who knows. I pick up a discarded sugar packet and hope for the best. And by best I mean that he’s gone back to doing whatever it is he’s doing. I think he might be talking to someone. Not in a crazy way. Maybe in a Bluetooth way? I’m not sure. I don’t see anything in his ears. Not that I was looking. OK, maybe I was looking a little but not so hard I could see ear buds or whatever.

All I know is he’s alone at the table. Kristie left a few minutes ago, leaving a ridiculously large tip. With my name written on it. It did make me feel a little guilty because my co-worker Starla is on with me. I’ll split it with her later. I know she needs the money.

“Brenna?” Gabriel’s smooth, chocolatey voice washes over me, calming my nerves. I have no idea why I think of melted chocolate when he speaks. Possibly because the timbre of his voice is warm, delicious, rich.

“Hey Gabriel,” I reply, acting as normal as I can. Which may not be all that normal. I’m what Grammy would describe as “a little sideways”. Me and Grammy both were. Marching to the beat of our own drums as they say. I miss having someone to march with.

“Can I get whatever you made me, to go?” He holds up his cup and my lips tip up involuntarily.

“Oh, so it hit the spot?” I ask, a little excited.

“And then some,” he replies, his full lips pulling up to reveal perfect, white teeth.

Puts my little snaggle tooth to shame. Or maybe not. My eye tooth sitting just a little higher than the rest is a little quirk I quite like. Anyone can have perfect teeth.

Shoot. He said something and I was thinking about my little snaggle. “Sorry?” I ask.

“The brew, was it new beans? Or different milk?”

Oh, he’s guessing what I made him. “I can’t reveal my secrets. But I can get you another.”

He grins at me and I grin back. And then we stand there grinning and one of us is going to have to break the grin off so I decide it’s me. I reluctantly tear my eyes away from the handsomest man who visits Afterlife Coffee. Don’t get me wrong, everyone has something about themselves that makes them beautiful, but Gabriel just has something more. I can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s more than looks and his impeccable manners. It’s in his nature. For such a large man he’s gentle. Caring. Protective.

“Pull yourself together, Brenna. He’s just a nice, handsome man, and you’ve dealt with nice handsome men before,” I mutter under my breath.

“Sorry? Did you say something?” Gabriel asks, scaring a “meep” sound out of me.

“Oh no, no, nothing. You might be hearing things,” I smile as I shuffle behind the counter. “Happens all the time in this place.” I roll my eyes.

Gabriel peers at me, his warm nature turning serious as he stares. No, not at me, near me. I follow his line of sight, looking over my shoulder. There doesn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary back there. He shakes himself, his attention snapping back to me as he smiles again.

“Yeah, you might be right. Old buildings make weird sounds,” he says before turning in his seat and resuming the one sided conversation he was having. With thin air. Maybe he sees things like Kristie?

Shrugging it off I select the beans I want, pouring them into the grinder. While I get them going I grab the milks I need. Gabriel needs something soothing. Calming. He always has a cool air about him, as if butter wouldn't melt in that luscious mouth. But I can see past that. Past the cloak that people wear out in public. My Grammy always said I had a gift for people. That I see things others don’t. I’m not sure if that’s true, but doing little things like this makes me feel good. It’s the reason why I will always tell people if I love their outfit or their lipstick. Little things that can make people feel special. Seen. Even if it is only by me.

My gaze meets Gabriel’s and the look he gives me makes me feel peculiar. Not in a bad way. In a good way. It makes me feel warm. Even when his gaze drifts away from mine, searching the air around me instead, I don’t feel bereft at the loss. For the first time in a long time I feel seen. Is this what I make other people feel? If it is, I’m never going to stop. Because this feeling? It’s wonderful.

Chapter 2

Gabriel

“What are you doing over here? Shouldn’t you be wooing my granddaughter? It’s been days.”

I groan as I roll over, pulling my pillow over my head. Souls are not only obnoxiously loud, they also have no fucking manners or idea of the time. Why would they? They exist between the living and the dead. They don’t need to eat or sleep or binge watch shit on TV. They’re on a mission to get their unfinished business done so they can move on. Unfortunately for me Grammy’s mission is keeping Brenna safe from who knows what, secondary to making me fall for Brenna.

Which isn't a hardship given that I’ve been halfway there for the past year. She’s sweet, kind and the type of woman who you know loves with everything she is.

“OK, I’ll back off. It’s probably early. But not too early for Brenna. She’s never needed that much sleep, that girl. Takes after me, you know? You can sleep when you’re dead. That’s what I always say.”

I crack an eyelid, staring at the pink-haired menace. “Well clearly that’s not true.” Grammy bobs her head side to side, her curls flopping this way and that. “Is this the exact outfit you passed in?”

Grammy looks down at herself, then up at me, waggling her brows. “Lucky, huh? My death eve’s outfit wasn’t nearly as cute.”

“Your wha- actually, you know what? I don’t care.” I flop my head the other way, closing my eyes tight.