Songs for this chapter are:

Drunk- Zayn

Someone New- Hozier

Move Together- James Bay

When I get to Grind, Posey is behind the counter pouring a bucket of ice into the bin. Jane, the oldest employee at Grind is sweeping the stained concrete floors with a look of clear boredom on her weathered face. She dips the mop into the bucket and soapy water overflows onto the floor. A little girl gets up from a table near the back and walks over to Jane as she swipes the mop over the mess, soaking up the water. 

The little girl's curly brown hair sits on her head like a helmet. I look around the few tables for her parents, but the place is pretty empty. Out of the ten tables, only two of them are occupied. Two girls with their laptops and textbooks overflowing the table and a guy with four empty espresso cups are the only people I see. Posey notices me and greets me with a smile.

The little girl, she has to be about four, sits down on the floor and pulls something out of her pocket. A small red car wheels across the puddle and I watch her eyes light up. Jane says something to the girl that I can't make out.

"Lila, please don't do that," Posey lifts the partition and steps out from behind the counter. She approaches the girl and bends down to her level.

The little girl grabs the red car before Posey can reach it. She hugs it to her chest and shakes her head furiously.

"Want car," her little voice chimes.

Posey reaches her hand out and cups her cheek. Her thumb caresses the little girl's skin and her panic turns into comfort. She must be familiar with Posey.

Her sister, of course. This little brown haired girl must her sister who she speaks of often. "You can keep the car, but please don't put it in the water," Posey's voice is different when she talks to the girl. Softer.

"Okay?" Posey taps the little girl on the nose and she giggles. She's cute.

"Kay," her little voice is even cuter.

I walk toward them and sit down at the table nearest to them. Jane finishes with one more swipe of her mop and says quick "hi" before she excuses herself to the stock room to finish inventory. Posey looks around to assess how busy it is, she politely checks on the two tables and walks back over to the girl and I.

"Please don't tell Jacob that I brought her to work with me," Posey slides into the chair in front of me.

"I would never," I tell her with a smile. Jacob can be an ass.

She clears her throat. "My grandma had an appointment and I couldn't call in," Posey nervously justifies herself.

"Well lucky for you then," I turn to the little one. "You get to hang out with your big sister all day," I say to her.

She doesn't turn to look toward my voice. The bell on the door chimes, alerting Posey of a customer. She looks at Lila and I nod, telling her I can sit with the girl in Jane's absence. Posey greets the two men in suits and I turn to watch the little girl play with her toy car. She's not paying any attention to me. 

That car is fascinating her and she's awfully cute while she rolls the little Camaro along the stained concrete floor. She crawls behind it, though she's clearly old enough to walk. Her little sneakers light up when her feet hit the concrete floor. She smiles when her little fingers wrap around the body of it and she flips it over. She spins the car on its top and smiles as it spins.

"That's an awfully cool car you've got yourself," I tell her. She doesn't look up at me, but she speaks.

"Car," she says.

Posey looks over as she pours soy milk from a carton into the mixing cup. I smile at her and watch as her shoulders relax. She tucks her lips into a modest smile and gets back to work. Her fingernails have little yellow dots painted on them, they usually have some sort of pattern on them. They are short and obviously painted by her. I watch her hands as she pours premade green tea from a pitcher into the cup full of soy milk and ice. She blends the concoction and sways her head back and forth. I look back over to the little girl staring adoringly at a little plastic Camaro.

"Zoom," Lila says softly. She lifts the car into the air and gazes off into the air behind it.

I sit quietly and watch until the line disappears. Posey is wiping down the bottles of syrup topping with a wet rag. The tables are dirty, eight out of ten of them. I walk over to the trash area and grab the busser tub from inside the cabinet next to the trashcan. Lila is still saying "car" and "zoom" as I start to clear off the first table. 

A three-dollar tip. Not too bad. You'd be surprised at the amount of customers we have that leave their tables a mess, but don't think to leave a tip for the person who cleans it up. I'm not sure if it's rudeness, or if they simply don't know that they should be doing it. Like Uber drivers, we assume that they get their entire tip that's taken out automatically, but it's not. Even if you mark the fifteen-percent tab, they don't actually see that money. You're supposed to tip them in cash, a guy in Manhattan once told me. Then again, he said he was from Ukraine, but his accent was clearly German. Maybe he was lying after all. Either way, baristas should be tipped way more than they are. We supply people with their caffeine fix while being treated like the dirt under their shoe. Coffee shops pay better than a waitressing gig, but it still doesn't hurt to tip us.

Public service announcement complete. Moving on. 

The next table has at least four sugar packets emptied out into a pile. I'm impressed when I see the sugar packets folded into little stick figures. There's a toothpick with a piece of napkin for a flag stuck right into the center of the sugar hill. I try to remember what the guy looked like who was sitting here. Actually, it was a girl. Or woman. I didn't get a clear look at her face, but whoever she is, she's awesome.

"Lila," I call for the little girl's attention. She looks up but doesn't move her body from its laying position on the floor.

"Do you want to come see this little scene over here? It's pretty cool," I point to the sugar hill and stare at the fake sword in one of the sugar packet people's arm.

A supple "no" comes out of her mouth and I nod, flattening the hill with my washcloth, destroying the creation. I go back and forth between clearing the remaining tables and keeping an eye on Lila. As I'm wiping the last swipe over the second to last table, Posey walks from behind the counter and stands in front of me.

"You didn't have to do that," she says, the brown of her eyes is barely noticeable because of how bloodshot her eyes are. Her strawberry hair is unkept and her jeans are short for her legs, resting right above her ankles. She's wearing a loose t-shirt that hangs on her body.

"Are you okay?" I ask. She glances around the shop and nods, sighing as she sits down at the table closest to her sister.

"Just tired. Work, school, the usual," Her smile is perky, but her shoulders are slumped. She doesn't like to complain, I can tell. I've found that those who have the most to complain about, never do. 

"If you need shifts picked up or anything let me know. I don't mind helping and I have some free time this semester." Though I don't have much free time, but I would like to help her if I can. She clearly has more going on than I do and I want her to be well. 

She shakes her head. Light red strands are escaping from a tiny black elastic band that is too small to possibly do the job. In the light, her hair looks lighter, as if she dyes it red. Her complexion doesn't give any of her secrets away, except the clusters of freckles on her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

"I need the shifts," her cheeks flush and she shakes her head. 

"But if you know anyone who makes bubbles to put little four year old daredevils inside of while I work, let me know," she adds with a smile. Her apron is dirty, stained with coffee and white streaks of whipped cream.

I smile with her and we both look to Lila still lying on the floor. 

"She's autistic," she tells me. Somewhere inside of my head, the pieces were put together within a few minutes of meeting her, I just didn't complete the thought. 

"We aren't sure how severe yet, she's learning to talk now," she pauses. "At four."

"Well sometimes that's not such a bad thing" I gently bump her shoulder with mine and smile at her. She uncrosses her arms and her face relaxes into a wide smile. "She's awfully cute and I don't think race car drivers need to be very vocal anyway." 

Lila says a quick, "car," and spins the car on it's back, watching in wonder as the light reflects off of the shiny red paint. 

"True," Posey agrees with an adoring smile at the little girl. 

She bends down closer to her little sister and rests her hands on her knees. I can't hear what she says to the little girl, but I can see that it makes Lila happy. I check the time, it's close to six. If I'm going to go out with Nora and her friends, I need to get back to my apartment and shower and shave.

I'm not nervous really, I just don't know what she's thinking about me. Does she randomly kiss people often? If so, that's okay, but I wish I had some inkling of what she's feeling, or how she dates. She's been flirty before today, but so far hasn't given me any indication or warning that she was going to kiss me this morning.

She was so confident when she leaned into me, remembering the way her tongue tasted makes me ache for her. She's so sensual, so sure of herself and her body. Nora is the type of woman you meet on a dating app, not afraid to put herself out there and be bold while doing it. She looks like the type of woman who could have me on my knees in less than a minute. And I can't stop thinking about her. Now I'm aching all over.  I need to do something about that. This time, I won't rip the shower curtain and fall on my ass. I'll stay safely in my bed. With my door locked.

Focus, Landon. I look over at Posey who's sitting back at the table again. She has her phone next to her ear and she's frowning. I watch her shake her head and mutter something into the phone before hanging up. I don't want to be nosey, so I don't ask her what's going on. If she wants to share, she will.

"Do you need anything before I go?" I ask her. Her shift should be close to over by now. She thanks me but says she's fine. I wave goodbye to Lila and Posey, shouting Jane's goodbye to her loud enough that she can hear me from the back room.

"See you tomorrow!" Jane yells.

Posey says bye again and I leave the shop. On my way home, I stop at the corner store underneath my apartment and grab a bag of ice and a four pack of Gatorade. Should I go out tonight? 

I guess I will go out tonight. 

Why not?

Will it be awkward? I wonder how Nora will introduce me to her roommates, or will she? 

During my walk home, I repeatedly reminded myself that I have nothing to lose. It's a casual offer to come out with her roommates, not a meet-the-parents style dinner. I wish I had more experience in being social, I wouldn't be so nervous now. 

The apartment is empty when I get home, only a small box with Tessa's name on it rests on the table. The paper is torn into pieces and the corner of the box is dented, as if someone threw it, picked it back up, and threw it again. 

 I grab the box, ripped paper and all, and carry it to my closet and put it on the shelf. 

Nora hasn't text me yet, so I plug my phone into the dock next to my bed and take a quick shower. Well, the plan was to take a quick shower, but my body ached and I needed to shave my beard a little. A trim, really. 

A tiny wrench is tossed into my plans when I check my text messages when I'm back in my room. I lay back on my bed, my hair still wet from the shower ( the uneventful shower that I very much enjoyed) and open my inbox. I scroll through two texts, one is from Tessa about staying a few extra hours at work. She also says that Nora will be calling me soon with details about tonight, and Tessa will meet Nora and I after her shift.

The other text is from Dakota.

Do you have plans tonight? I read it out loud.

Staring at the screen, I wait a few moments before responding. I don't want to tell her that I have plans with someone else, especially not another woman. It's not that I want to lie; I would rather do anything than that. I just don't see anything good coming from this.

Just studying, I don't have time for much else.

I close my eyes before I send and my memory guides my thumb to pull the trigger. I immediately feel guilty for lying, but know that it's too late to back track now.

I plug my phone back into the charger and walk to my closet to begin getting ready for tonight. 

(Author's note: Thank you so much for voting and commenting, it means a lot to me! Also, I'm leaving for Italy, France, and Vegas tomorrow and I can't wait! I'm bringing some cool swag stuff with me to each signing :) I hope to see you there! Have I been to your city before? )