Page 30 of No Shot (The Toronto Tundra #2)

Bri

It was a relaxing couple of days, but I can ’ t lie, it ’ s nice getting back to the grind.

I guess you could say I woke up with a little extra pep in my step.

It ’ s probably why I willingly offered to deep clean the espresso machine this morning, even though it looks like it hasn ’ t been wiped in ten years.

It ’ s cathartic. The act of working on something and seeing the physical results of your effort.

It ’ s something I can appreciate. Not to mention, the smell of coffee beans—even burnt ones—has a way of comforting me.

It reminds me of late nights studying in the library, or early morning walks with a fresh, hot cup of coffee in hand.

A lot of people find it overwhelming to the senses, but I can ’ t get enough.

I definitely chose the right job, that ’ s for sure.

“ Oh my god, I ’ m gonna die. He ’ s so cute.

” There ’ s a hushed conversation happening by the register between Allana and Jessie.

I like them. While their work ethic leaves something to be desired, they keep me entertained and definitely make my work days more fun.

They remind me of when I was a lot younger, full of life and carefree, before my responsibilities started weighing me down.

Actually, who am I kidding? I ’ ve probably always been this intense.

I mean, at five, I did color-code my toys and create a playing schedule that I stuck to religiously.

Either way, the girls giggle, whispering back and forth, and I smile. Oh, to be first-years crushing on a boy at a coffee shop…

“ You think he models?” Allana asks loud enough for me to overhear.

“ Are you joking? Look at that bone structure, of course he does.”

“ Shh, Jess. He ’ s coming.”

I try to hold in my own chuckle as I sneak a peek at the guy who has apparently infatuated my only other shift support.

Penn.

He marches up to the counter, the aura of confidence that always seems to surround him on full display. He ’ s in worn jeans, a white Henley, and has his hat on… sigh … backwards. This douche knows exactly what he ’ s doing right now.

It is too damn early for him to wave his hotness in everyone ’ s face. Yet, here I am, watching, equally as entranced as the girls.

With a huge toothpaste commercial smile, he winks at the two of them, and I ’ m pretty sure they swoon in unison.

“ Good morning, ladies.”

“ Uhhhh—” Allana actually freezes, not able to get a word out. I watch as Jessie pinches her side out of Penn ’ s eyeline to try to snap her out of her trance. “ Cups!” she yells far too loudly. “ I need cups!” With that, she runs to the back for this supposed ‘ emergency restock ’ .

“ Sorry, she… takes her job really seriously. She works so hard.” Atta girl. I ’ m proud of her for covering for her friend. “ What can I get for you?”

“ I ’ m actually looking for someone,” Penn replies casually, either not catching on to their little hearts imploding or not wanting to embarrass them any further.

“ Aren ’ t we all…” Jessie says with a wistful sigh. Uh oh, not her too.

Penn keeps his composure, laughing politely.

Good thing. I would castrate him if he was a dick to the girls.

Sure, they ’ re a little immature, but they ’ re harmless.

From where I ’ m peeking out from around the corner, I watch the awkward scene unfold.

I wait for her to recover, ask him for his order again, breathe, something.

Instead, she just stares at him before abandoning her post and running to the back.

Shaking my head, I wipe my hands on the cleaning towel, tighten the apron around my waist, and head to the front to take over.

As soon as Penn sees me, he smiles, his entire expression lightening.

“ Hey, Soup,” he lets out, cooly. I ’ m entirely unamused and making sure he knows it.

His face shifts, eyes widening while his hands come up in a gesture of innocence. “ I swear I did nothing.”

“ You know what you did.”

“ What?”

“That.” I motion to his head. “ The hot thing with your hat.”

He looks genuinely shocked. “ Pardon me?”

“ You heard me. What do you want?”

He pauses, hand raising to his heart like he ’ s taken aback. Dramatic dummy. “ I ’ m sorry. Did Bri Campbell just call me hot?”

I scoff. “ You know I have the power to throw patrons out, right? Ban you for life…”

“ You wouldn ’ t dare.”

“ Try me,” I warn. I won ’ t do it, but I can daydream about it all damn day.

Both his hands land on the counter, leaning forward like I ’ ve just doused him in gasolene and struck a match. His competitive streak igniting.

“ You the final boss or something? Get through you, and I finally get my coffee?”

I stare at him because I don ’ t even know what game we ’ re playing, but I know he ’ s not going to win. He cracks his knuckles, intensifying his gaze.

“ Nice try, lover-boy. I ’ m unshakeable.”

I swear he chokes on his own spit. “ Well, I am a boy. And I am your—”

“ Don ’ t you fucking say that word. I swear to God, Penn, I will—”

“ Lover,” he says with a satisfied grin. VOM-IT.

“ I want to yak. Never say that again, do you hear me?” I warn, raising my finger until I ’ m pointing an inch in front of his face. “ Now, what do you want?”

“ I think you know exactly what I want, Soup.” The tension he ’ s trying to create between us at this ungodly hour, in the middle of an open coffee shop… flatter than a pancake, thank god.

I huff, yet he still seems entertained. “ If I give you caffeine, will you leave?”

“ Man, oh, man. The hospitality at this establishment?” He raises a few fingers to his mouth. “ Chef ’ s kiss.”

“ You have five seconds to order or—”

“ I can ’ t be rushed, there are too many choices!” He pretends to be overwhelmed by our ten-item menu, and I am having none of it.

“ I ’ m dead serious, Penn.”

“ Oh I fucking know you are. The problem, Bridgette? I ’ m way too turned on by your attitude to stop.” Oh fuck. That was hot. I try to mask it, but my cheeks flush all the same.

“ Latte, please,” he whispers to me. I never realized how close our faces got in our little sparring match.

Thankfully, he straightens up, taps his card to pay, and moves along to wait for his drink.

One of the girls needs to make it because I need air.

Fresh air and space from the man I ’ m growing alarmingly more attracted to every day.

Unfortunately, when I return from my leisurely two minutes in the dirty back alley of the shop, I feel neither refreshed nor unhorny. To my dismay, the guilty party hasn ’ t left like I had hoped, but rather has now taken a seat in the corner of the shop. The audacity.

You know what? You ’ re Bridgette fucking Campbell. What the hell are you doing letting yourself be affected by a man? Woman-up, dammit.

My mental pep-talk seems to be working as I get back into the flow of things and start handling the next wave of customers like the professional I am.

Penn continues watching me even after he finishes his coffee.

When he orders a muffin from Jessie, who thankfully has composed herself enough to resume normal functions, he winks at me.

And every time I catch him staring at me, and our eyes lock?

He smiles like I ’ m making his day brighter.

And every time he does, I catch myself wanting to smile back, because the way he looks at me has my stomach fluttering more than it should.

That right there is entirely too unnerving for me to dig into right now, so I don ’ t.

Instead, I keep my head down and watch the minutes tick by until my shift is over. Fifteen minutes. I can do that in my sleep.I can practically smell freedom as we speak.

Right on cue, Clark walks through the door. He ’ s sporting a knit cardigan and some fitted khakis, with his dark leather briefcase slung over his shoulder. I like his style. Dressing up nice for class is typical for him, and I can certainly appreciate a well-put-together man.

Clark ’ s eyes light up as he spots me, his smile spreading wide across his face.

I return the gesture, feeling the familiar happiness of seeing a friendly face.

It ’ s been nice to have a friend at school.

The environment is inherently competitive, and while we ’ re meant to be networking and working on our soft skills in addition to our studies, I find most of my classmates like to keep to themselves.

It ’ s been nice having someone in my corner for the nearly forty hours a week I spend at school.

“ How was your weekend?” Clark asks in his smooth, composed voice—pleasant but lacking the effortless confidence of Penn ’ s.

“ So relaxing, I caught up on a ton of work. How was yours? Did you end up going to that fam jam?”

“ Nice! Yup, Mum made Turkey and everything, it was awesome.” He ’ s cute. Clark likes to talk about his family quite a bit. Seems like a good guy all around. I know they must be really proud of him.

“ That sounds lovely! So, what ’ ll it be today?”

He scans the menu. “ Hmm, maybe let ’ s go with… an Earl Grey.” He ’ s a tea guy. Why you ’ d go somewhere to pay for a cup of hot water, I ’ m not sure, but who am I to judge?

“ You got it.” He reaches into his pocket, like he always does, but I stop him.

“ I ’ m never going to charge you. You gotta stop trying.

” Paying for his three-dollar water out of my paycheck?

The least I can do for how often he gives me rides.

I don ’ t even know how this deal is fair for him, or why he does it at all. ..

“ You spoil me,” he says with a chuckle. “ So, um, Bri, I ’ ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Penn sit up in his seat. Looks like he ’ s trying to be discreet, but there ’ s no doubt he ’ s attempting to eavesdrop.

“ Yeah? What ’ s that?” I ask, focused on punching in my employee code. It ’ s far too many digits.

“ Would you want to get dinner sometime?”