Page 15 of The Librarian’s Familiar

Even though August hadn’t planned on going to the coffee shop, that is where he found himself the next morning. Charlie wasn’t there, which he told himself was a good thing. It wasn’t as though he’d come to the coffee shop with the hopes of running into him or even to buy him a coffee. That was ridiculous.

Yet as he approached the counter and scanned the menu on the board behind, he found himself unable to resist. A cup of coffee for answers was such a small thing.

He hesitated when Sinclair asked what he wanted.

What if Charlie had already been and gotten himself a coffee? He wasn’t about to ask Sinclair that. But he didn’t know what Charlie drank.

Nope, he wasn’t doing this.

“Same as yesterday?” Sinclair prompted with a smirk.

August glanced at the fox. Charlie’s ex. In that moment, it wasn’t about him or Charlie or anything other than getting under the fox’s skin. “Yes, and whatever Charlie normally drinks.”

“Like that, is it? I did wonder why he hadn’t been in yet this morning.” Sinclair rang up the order. “You’d better get him his daily muffin, too.”

“Sure.” August tapped his card to pay for the order, aware that there were people sitting in the shop, enjoying their morning coffee and listening in on every conversation—that was the problem with being around shifters, no conversation was secret. It was something that gave him an edge on the ice. He could hear what the other team was saying, but he had to be careful about not making it obvious. It was why he’d always held back, so as not to raise suspicions about how he guessed what the opposition was going to do.

He stepped to the side to wait for his order as doubts crept in. Maybe Charlie wasn’t at the library today. Maybe it’s closed mid-week. It wasn’t as though he had paid much attention to its opening hours.

Not only that, but Sinclair now thought that he’d slept with Charlie. How many people sitting in the coffee shop thought the same thing? Sweat formed on his lower back as the old fear of being outted returned, even though he had no reputation and team to protect anymore. He’d be just another sports star who retired and came out.

It shouldn’t fucking matter who he was seeing or sleeping with…yet it mattered so much he could barely breathe. When it came to his private life, he was so used to moving in the shadows that he didn’t know what to do or how to be seen as anything other than August North, hockey player.

Sinclair placed the bags of cookies and muffin on the counter in front of him. “Are you alright?”

“Fine.”

“If you say so.”

August lifted his top lip, baring his teeth. He was not having a heart-to-heart with a fox shifter. Besides, he doubted Sinclair would understand anything. He was clearly doing whatever the fuck he wanted and didn’t care what anyone else thought.

Sinclair returned with the cups of coffee. “Look, whatever is going on, I don’t care.”

“Nothing is going on,” he snapped a bit too quickly. So much for getting under Sinclair’s skin. Instead, he’d only succeeded in aggravating himself. He really should know better. He was a fucking idiot on all accounts.

“Uh-huh. Thus the coffee and breakfast.”

“It’s a bribe. He wouldn’t tell me his magic.”

“Bruh, that’s like asking if you top or bottom—a bit fucking personal unless you’re about to get naked.”

Behind him, someone choked on their coffee.

“Could you not be so…no one wants to hear about…” He couldn’t even get the words out because now he was wondering about Charlie and Sinclair.

Sinclair laughed. “You’re so cute when you get embarrassed. Tell him I said hi.” He winked and walked away.

Sure, Sinclair was nothing like his older brother, but they were both annoying in their own way. He grabbed the cups and bags and headed out of the shop, almost running straight into Charlie, who was rushing toward it like it was a life or death matter.

“Hey.”

“Sorry.” Charlie tried to duck past, but August was quicker, blocking his route.

“I got your coffee and muffin.” August held it out like a peace offering.

Charlie’s gaze flicked from the cup to August’s face and back again before accepting the cup. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you told me to!” And if Charlie was going to be like that, he’d drink it himself.