Page 18 of Anything For You
Kelsey’s fingers moved quickly while she paid, writing Elizabeth’s name on the cup in her looping, slightly chaotic handwriting. Elizabeth watched her hands, the way her thumb pressed against the Sharpie, the small scar on her knuckle, the faint smudge of coffee grounds on her wrist.
She needed to stop noticing things.
The machine hissed. Kelsey steamed the almond milk with quick, practiced movements, her shoulders tense beneath the soft gray knit of her sweater. Elizabeth watched the curve of her neck, the way her hair slipped loose from the bun, and felt something tighten in her chest.
This was a problem.
She was supposed to be in control. That was the entire reason for the contract—clear terms, defined boundaries, no room for confusion. But standing here, watching Kelsey pour milk into the espresso with careful precision, Elizabeth felt anything but in control.
Kelsey turned, holding out the cup.
Elizabeth reached for it. Their fingers brushed.
It wasn’t intentional. At least, Elizabeth didn’t think it was. But the contact sent a quick, sharp jolt up her arm, and for half a second, neither of them moved. Kelsey’s eyes widened, her lips parting just slightly, and Elizabeth felt her pulse kick hard against her ribs.
She pulled the cup away, wrapping both hands around it to steady herself.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Yeah,” Kelsey said softly. “No problem.”
Elizabeth should leave. She had a meeting at nine, a deposition prep at ten-thirty, a full calendar of obligations waiting for her downtown. But her feet didn’t move.
Kelsey was still watching her, her expression open and a little nervous, like she was waiting for Elizabeth to say something. To acknowledge what had happened last night, maybe.
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Thanks for last night. At the bar.”
Kelsey’s smile didn’t waver. “No problem.”
Elizabeth exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing just slightly. “This is going to work,” she said, more to herself than to Kelsey. “The wedding. The whole thing. It’ll be fine.”
Kelsey held her gaze, steady and warm. “Yeah. I think so too.”
Something in Elizabeth’s chest loosened. She nodded. “Good.”
The line behind her had grown, two people now, both shifting impatiently. Elizabeth stepped back, adjusting her grip on the coffee cup. “I’d better get going.”
“Have a good day.”
“You too.” Elizabeth turned and walked toward the door, the bell chiming again as she pushed it open. The morning air hit her as she let the city noise wash over her.
She was in control.
Last night had been a test, and they’d passed. Scott had believed them. The story was solid. The wedding was still days away, and in the meantime, she had work. Briefs to review, emails to send, a deposition to prepare for. She could slip back into her routine, her rhythm. No more rehearsals. No more unnecessary touching. No more of Kelsey’s hand on her knee, no more whispered instructions that made her forget to breathe.
She adjusted her bag higher on her shoulder and started walking. The sidewalk was busy, the usual mix of hurried professionals and leisurely tourists, but she moved through them with ease, her mind already shifting to the day ahead.
8
The morning sun slanted through the narrow windows of Kelsey’s apartment, casting warm, golden bars across the faded rug. The scent of fresh coffee filled the air, mingling with the faint, ever-present hint of sandalwood from the candle on the bookshelf. Kelsey sat on the couch, her legs tucked under her, a steaming mug cradled in her hands. The couch cushions, worn soft from years of use, sank beneath her weight.
She took a sip of her coffee, the heat a welcome burn as it slid down her throat. Her gaze drifted to the calendar pinned to the wall, mostly a chaotic collage of work shifts. She had one week. Seven days until Elizabeth’s ex-wife’s wedding. Seven days until she had to stand beside Elizabeth and… The thought sent a frantic flutter through her stomach, a sickeningly sweet mix of excitement and a cold, creeping dread. It was insane.
Kelsey leaned deeper into the couch, the cushions soft beneath her, and let herself daydream. Standing beside Elizabeth, close enough to brush shoulders. Elizabeth’s hand on the small of her back, warm and steady, guiding her through a crowd of strangers. Kelsey imagined the way Elizabeth’s eyesmight soften when she looked at her, the way her mouth might curve into something almost like a smile.
Would Elizabeth wear a dress? The thought made Kelsey’s stomach flip. She’d only ever seen Elizabeth in blazers. But a dress would be devastating.
Or maybe Elizabeth would wear a suit.
