Page 16 of Fun Together (Make Romance #1)

Faye

Eli and I are crammed in the corner of the coffee shop by the window, sitting hip to hip and hovered over my laptop. I cross my legs under the table and accidentally kick him in the shin.

“Sorry,” I say. “Didn’t think about how crowded it would be on a Sunday morning.”

He bumps me with his shoulder. “I don’t mind.”

“So, what’s the verdict?” I ask, ignoring the little flit of jitters I get when I’m around him now.

He scratches his beard. I’ve noticed he does this when he’s uncertain, like he’s buying time to think of the best way to say something. “This font is an interesting choice.”

“Is that your way of saying it’s terrible?” I ask.

“It’s not a bad font, but not the best for a resume. You may want to use something easier to read.”

I was so bored putting my resume together that I had to trick myself into making it entertaining by playing with fonts and formatting. “I was just trying to add a little flair.”

“Flair is nice, but I don’t know that it would be properly appreciated for this role.”

The role in question is something I think I’d be good at, even though project management is very different from what I do currently. Although, managing Alexis’s requests and moods can feel like a project in and of itself. I think I’m so desperate for something else, I’d take anything at this point.

“Flair aside, do you think I’d be a good fit for it? I don’t have a ton of experience with a lot of what they’re looking for.”

“Sometimes that doesn’t matter, especially since you have so much company knowledge. It says you started there as an intern?”

I nod.

“That’s good. It’ll show them you’re loyal. Committed to your career goals.” He waves his hand around. “You know what they like to hear.”

“Oh yeah, I know how to play the corporate lingo game.”

“Then this will be a breeze. I’m going to tell them they should interview you.”

“Just like that?”

He shrugs. “Sure, why not?”

I laugh. “You make everything sound so simple.”

“It’s not simple, but—” He gestures to my computer screen. “You’re the best I’ve talked to so far.”

Eli scrolls through the document, erasing some of what I have and replacing it with wording that makes more sense. I let him do his thing as I let my eyes wander around the busy shop.

I look up to the front, making brief eye contact with the barista.

He’s tall, with short, blonde hair and I’ve always thought he was kind of cute.

The butterflies in my stomach bounce around a bit and I’m relieved this isn’t a purely Eli phenomenon.

I’ve thought about that pretend kissing last weekend way too much.

So much I started dreaming up scenarios where the kissing wasn’t pretend at all.

And being so close to him in a cozy coffee shop isn’t helping matters. Our bodies have been pressed together the whole time we’ve been here. I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but my skin hums against his, like a purring cat in a patch of sunlight.

I watch the barista brush a piece of hair out of his face before smiling at a customer and taking their order.

Maybe the hot barista would be a good option to explore, but I have no idea what to do or say.

And he’s working, so I don’t want to be the kind of person that bothers him while he’s trying to do his job.

“Are you okay?” Eli asks.

I shrug out of my jean jacket, attempting—and failing—to avoid touching Eli’s arm in the process. “Yeah, it’s just kind of hot in here.”

“What are you talking about? When we arrived you immediately put on your jacket and complained about how they’re blasting the AC.”

“Well, I got acclimated and now I’m hot.”

He smirks and nods toward the front of the shop. “Why do you keep looking up at the counter?”

“I wasn’t looking up there.”

“Do you know him?”

“Not really. He’s working sometimes when I come in.”

“He seems cool. We talked for a few minutes when I was ordering. Found out we went to the same summer camp back in elementary school.”

“That reminds me, I was supposed to be buying you coffee.” I got here and he had already ordered our drinks. He got a large coffee for himself and a vanilla latte for me.

“I got here early and figured I’d just go ahead since they were so busy.”

“So how did you even find that out? About the summer camp?”

“I commented on one of his tattoos and said it looked like the logo for a camp I went to as a kid. It’s an outline of a mountain range. Turns out he went to the same camp. I asked him if he still hikes there, and he mentioned he’s going next weekend.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Small world.”

“Interesting. So he likes hiking?” I don’t get hiker vibes from him. He looks like the kind of guy who sits on a park bench while pretending to read The Bell Jar , but he’s cute so you kind of don’t care.

“I guess so.” He taps my foot with his. “Do you have a little crush?”

“On him? No.”

He leans forward and places a hand under his chin. “You seem very interested in his hobbies.”

“I’m interested in getting this resume done. We’re supposed to be coming up with my top five skills.”

I delete the Communication bullet point.

“You seem like you want to talk to him.”

He’s like a dog with a bone. I fiddle with my straw, squeaking it up and down in my plastic cup. “I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?”

“I’ll be weird about it.I don’t know how to talk to people.”

“You talk to me.”

“That’s because I know you.”

“Let’s practice. Pretend I’m him.” He leans back in his chair. “Ask me out.”

I shift in my seat. “I think you’ve done enough pretend stuff for me. Plus, I literally don’t know where to begin. I’ve been scrambling for a conversation starter and the only thing I can come up with is that I should ask him if he likes coffee.”

He smiles. “He might find that charming.”

I give him a skeptical look. “More like embarrassing.”

I can tell I’ve given him some kind of quest he wishes to complete, but I stop him from saying anything else by asking, “Now, what do you think about collaborative and adaptable as potential skills?”

Thankfully, this gets us back to the task at hand and we spend the next ten minutes working through the rest of the document. I’m pleased with what we’ve put together and already feel more confident, like I might actually have a shot at this.

“How long have you been coming to this coffee shop?” Eli asks.

“A couple of years. Plus, I can walk here now since I moved, and the coffee is really good.”

“Yeah, it’s nice having a place that’s convenient and has good coffee.” He looks out the window. He’s got a bit of sunburn on his nose, I guess from being outside helping his dad yesterday. “This is a cool neighborhood. Have you ever been to that bar across the street?”

“Yes, I love that place. It’s very cozy and dark.”

“Maybe we could go there sometime. We can get espresso martinis to satisfy our caffeine fix.”

“Yeah, maybe we can—” I stop, realizing what’s he’s doing. That was good. Too good. I sniff. “That proves nothing.”

He smiles, eyes twinkling with triumph. “It proves that it’s not that hard.”

“But it’s easy for you. You always know what to say, and . . .” I gesture to him. “You know . . .”

“What?”

“Your face . . .” I take a sip of my drink, wishing I’d never even said anything. “It’s a . . . good one.”

He seems baffled by this. “Thank you. But Faye, you are attractive. And he keeps looking back at you, too. All you have to do is bat those big blue eyes at him and he’ll do anything you like.” He sighs before continuing, “Trust me.”

“You can’t be serious.”It can’t really be that easy.

“Only one way to find out. It’s slowed down, so you won’t feel like you’re in his way.”

He’s right, so I can’t use the excuse that I’d be bothering him while he’s busy. “Fine, but you can’t watch.”

The idea of him watching me fumble through a conversation with someone is too much. This is already strange enough, going from pretend flirting to pretend kissing the other night. Before, I could use being drunk as an excuse, but it’s a bright, sober morning. I can’t pretend this isn’t weird.

“What if I close my eyes?”he asks, placing his hands over his face.

I take my hair down so I can re-do my bun. I’m stalling.

He peeks through his fingers and his eyes track the movement as I put my hair back up. “Stop stalling.”

“Okay, I’ll go talk to him.”

Eli stands up so that I can get squeeze past him, whispering, “Go get ‘em tiger,” to me as I pass.

I make my way up to the counter and tell myself this is going to be fine.

He’s looking down at his phone. What if I’m interrupting an important text conversation, like maybe his great aunt needs a kidney transplant and if he doesn’t respond within ten seconds she will die, and he’ll have that on his conscience for the rest of his life because he had to be polite to a customer.

“What can I do for you?” he asks.

I smile in a way that I hope is warm and friendly and not like an alien who is mimicking human emotion.“Thought I might want to consume something besides caffeine this morning. These pastries look really good.”

He moves to stand behind the pastry case. “Good call. What are you in the mood for?”

“What’s your favorite?” This feels like something Eli would ask. I resist the urge to look back at where he’s sitting to make sure he’s keeping his promise of not watching us.

“The strawberry rhubarb danish is one of our seasonal pastries right now. It’s a fan favorite.”

“Okay, I’ll try that one.”

He moves to grab the pastry from the case.

“Actually, can I get a couple of those?” I ask.

“Sure thing.” He wraps the pastries in some tissue paper and hands them to me. He punches the order in. “That’ll be $8.50.”

“Thank you.” I swipe my card. “Um, I’m Faye, by the way. I come here so often, so I figured I should introduce myself.”

He smiles at me. It’s the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but still a pretty good one. “I’m Cameron.”

“Nice to officially meet you,” I say.

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

A woman comes up to counter. “Excuse me,” she says. “Do you have any French loaves left today?”

Cameron nods to the pastries in my hand. “Hope you like it. I’ll see you around?”

I nod emphatically. “Definitely.”

When I turn around to head back to the table, I notice Eli was absolutely breaking his promise and was not only watching the entire thing, but sitting up biting his nails like he’s trying to expend some kind of nervous energy.

“You said you wouldn’t watch,” I say, as he stands up to let me back to my seat.

“It looks like it went well?”

“I think so. I got his name.”

“And?”

“That’s it?”

His face changes and he now beams at me, like I’ve done something very impressive. “Well, that’s a start. Maybe next time you can get his astrological sign.”

I roll my eyes and hand him one of the pastries. “For your help today.”

“Thank you,” he says, smiling like I just gave him a gift he’s always wanted.

I take a bite of the danish. It’s good, but a little crumbly and some of it falls into my lap. I brush the crumbs off and in the process, they fall onto Eli’s lap.

He looks at me and arches a brow. “Was that payback for forcing you talk to him?”

I cover my mouth to hide my smile. “No, I’m sorry.” I almost reach down to brush them off his lap before catching myself. “I feel like I owe you more than a danish. Is there anything I can help you with, so I don’t feel like such a leech?”

“You’re not a leech.” He shows me his phone screen. I see a string of texts from his mom. “Got any ideas for how to help with a meddling mother?”

One good thing about having a completely hands-off mother is that at least she’s not a meddler.

“Who is Dani?”

“A woman she’s trying to set me up with.” He sighs and sets his phone down. “Apparently I have offered to take her to dinner this Saturday night.”

The butterflies that belong to Eli sink down, like they’re disappointed in this development. But this is good. Him encouraging me to talk to other guys and telling me about his dates with other women. I need the reminder that his help is strictly friendly.

“And you don’t want to go?”

“For some reason a blind date seems so . . . I don’t know. Bleak?”

“I get it. Kind of feels like the final dating frontier or something.”

“Exactly. My mom just worries about me, I think. My parents have a big anniversary coming up, and she’s got her mind on matrimonial bliss.”

“How long have they been married?”

“Thirty years.”

“Wow, that’s . . . rare.”

“Yeah, it is. And now they want me to give a speech.” He shakes his head and puffs air out of his cheeks. “Not sure how I got roped into that.”

I know exactly how he got roped into it. Because he’s charming and handsome and exactly the kind of person you want giving a speech at your party.

“I’m sure you’ll give a great speech.”

“Everyone keeps saying that, but I’m a little nervous about it.”

“Why?”

“Because . . .” He shifts in his seat and I’m seeing him express discomfort in a way I’ve never seen before. “I don’t know what it feels like.”

“What do you mean?”

“Being in love. I’ve never even been in a real relationship before.”

I’m honestly not super surprised by this, considering Eli always had a steady but short-term sort of dating lifestyle from what I observed during college. Maybe that hasn’t changed much. But I am surprised at how he seems to be disappointed by his lack of a serious dating history.

“I think you can still give a great speech about your parents without having experienced that yourself.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He looks down, almost like he’s feeling shy about what he wants to say next. “I just feel like I should have experienced that by now.”

“Have you . . .” I don’t know how to ask this because it’s none of my business. “Tried to be in one? A relationship, I mean.”

“Kind of, but not really. I’ve been told I’m not serious enough.”

Told by who? A previous girlfriend in New York? I want to ask more, but if he wants me to know more, he’ll tell me.

He shakes his head. “I just haven’t met the right person, I guess.”

I ball up the tissue paper my danish was wrapped in. “You never know, maybe Dani will be the right person.”

He chuckles. “I appreciate the optimism.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fun. You always make things fun.”

He tilts his head, and I swear I almost see him blush a little. “Thanks.” He leans back in his seat. “So, next time you come in you’re going to get that date, right?”

“I thought I’d just pine over him for a few years before doing anything about it,” I say.

He shakes his head at me, with a smile. It’s a real one; the kind of smile that makes you feel like the only person who’s ever been smiled at before. If he smiles at Dani like that, his mom will have nothing to worry about.

I shut down those thoughts along with my laptop and lift my empty coffee cup. “Cheers for good luck to both of us?”

His face is relaxed and earnest as he clicks his cup against mine and says, “Cheers to that.”