Page 39 of Latte Darling


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My neighbor grins at me, his dimples on full display with his freshly shaven face. He’s so cute it’s obnoxious. And even in those light blue scrubs, he still looks like a surfer with his tan, swagger, and shaggy hair.

He sighs, “Heading in for another twelve and need a little jolt.”

I grimace, not sure how anyone makes it through regular 12-hour shifts, especially at a high stress job like healthcare.

He laughs, “I’d make that face too.”

“You’re a freaking saint.”

Dean rolls his eyes, “Not even close.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I pull a large cup free from the stack. “A spicy speedboat?” I ask, referring to the triple shot cinnamon latte he tends to prefer.

“You know it.”

I start prepping the espresso, as Dean leans his hip against the counter.

“So…” He trails off, and my eyes snap over to meet his.

Nothing good ever comes next when someone starts their sentence like that.

“What?”

His lips pull to the side like he’s fighting off a smirk.

I stop what I’m doing. “What!?”

“Met your boyfriend the other day.”

My face scrunches, trying to remember the last time he was in here and who he might’ve seen me talking to. “Boyfriend? Who are you talking about?”

Dean crosses his arms, “That big guy with the tattoos and nice wheels. The one that was leaving your place at the crack of dawn the other morning.”

Time creaks to a standstill.

He saw him?

“Axel?” I don’t mean to whisper it, but the fact that Axel stayed until morning is news to me.

I thought he hightailed it out of there the moment I passed out. And drunk or not, I’ve never been able to sleep with another body in the bed, so I assumed he hadn’t been with me. But apparently the rules are different with Axel.

Dean’s eyes narrow and I’m sure my face is giving too much away so I force my hands to move, getting back to the task of making his drink.

“Everything go okay with him?” Dean’s tone has changed from teasing to concerned.

“Yep!” my voice squeaks and I feel my cheeks start to heat.

“Mads. If there’s something wrong, you can tell me. You know that, right?”

“I know.” I groan, knowing I should be grateful to have people concerned for me. “Really, nothing’s wrong. He’s just not my boyfriend.”

I look back to see Dean’s doubtful expression, “You sure?”

That makes me laugh. “Pretty sure.”

“Why not?”

“Why not what?”

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