Page 20 of How To Not Need You

"Not enough to drive out of your way for it."

I keep my eyes on the road. "It's not that far."

He smirks. “Sure."

The bastard knows I have ulterior motives. I haven't stopped thinking about Liv Carter since Noah and Elsie’s wedding. Seeing her again the other morning had only made it worse. It was ridiculous. Most of the time I’d spent with her at the wedding, she’d been threatening to stab me with a canapé skewer.

And yet I found myself hoping she'd be there.

Ben stretches in his seat. "You know she probably isn't even there."

"I know."

"But you hope she is."

"I said I know."

He laughs. “That’s not what I asked.”

I shake my head as Page & Grounds comes into view. "You're insufferable."

"I've been called worse." He laughs.

We step through the door, earning a few sideways glances in our uniforms. It isn't every day half the Seabrook Fire Brigade wanders into a café together.

“There he is!” Luca shouts, before we’ve even cleared the threshold.

Ben, just behind me, snorts. “Jesus, man. Let the guy get his coffee first.” He shakes his head, showering tiny drops of rain onto the tile.

Monday, ten a.m., and half of Seabrook apparently had nowhere better to be. I hesitate, one step past the door, and scan for the nearest escape route. But it’s too late. Luca has already spotted me.

“Is there a fire?” I ask, deadpan as I make my way to the counter. Might as well find out what the hell this is.

Luca leans in, his voice suddenly dropped to an unnecessary whisper: “Not yet, but you’re about to set one.” He winks. I try not to react to his strange comment.

Ben is less subtle. He’s already peeled off to the first open table, chair legs screeching as he drops himself into it. He props his boots on the adjacent seat and folds his arms, ready for the show.

Noah is in the corner, strangely he actually looks comfortable in public here. He is usually the most antisocial of my friends. He closes his laptop, glances up at me, and raises his eyebrows. A single nod from Noah is more effective than a three-hour TED Talk.

I lean partly on the counter, running my hand over the growing stubble on my chin, already wishing I’d shaved before shift. Maybe even showered. It doesn’t matter. Ben is right, I still smell faintly of oil and smoke from the shift.

Luca’s arms are crossed now, but his fingers twitch on the tamper like he’s resisting the urge to use it as a gavel.

“You know what you want?” he says, already assuming I don’t.

I nod. “Black coffee.”

He snorts. “Classic.” The steam wand hisses behind him, operated by the same girl I saw the other day. What was her name again? Mia? I’m aware of every eye in the place, but pretend not to notice.

Ben, not satisfied with his ringside seat, starts the chant: “Jake. Jake. Jake.” It dies after the second repeat, but the point is made.

I sigh. “What’s this about?”

Luca leans forward, eyes wide with mock surprise. “You don’t know?”

“No.”

He grins. “You’re full of shit.”