Page 28 of Should Our Hearts Catch Fire

Gabe chuckles. He likes his introverted customers, they’re so funny. “Sure thing.” He grabs the donut first, then scribblesCal’s order on the cup, pausing when a familiar, tingly sensation sweeps through him, turning into a ringing in his ears that lasts no longer than a few seconds. Once it stops, words flash in front of him in a golden swirl, burning bright before they start to fade.

If you don’t like your story, rewrite it.

He quickly writes the words on the cup before he forgets them and passes it on to Zeke while Cal pays.

Well, that was a first. Cal’s never got a message from him before. Or more accurately, there has never been a message to pass on to him. Does it mean something is happening with Cal? Maybe Dawson too? The message was kind of ominous, to be frank.

Once Cal’s collected his order and bid them both goodbye, Zeke walks over, leaning against the counter as he watches Cal leave. “Huh. Who would’ve guessed?”

“That he and Ellis are related?” Gabe guesses. He’s under no impression that Zeke won’t eavesdrop if given a chance.

“That you’ve met your future brother-in-law and didn’t even know it.”

Gabe lets out a groan. “Seriously. Will you stop?”

Zeke has the nerve to look offended. “Moi? What did I do?”

“Oh, please. You’ve been giving me shit for weeks.”

“But I do it with love.”

“Well, stop.”

Zeke sighs, feigning disappointment. “You won’t let me have any fun.” He huffs, turning around, then back to look at Gabe.“You know, I can predict the future. Want me to tell you what’s coming for you and your loverrr?”

“You can’t predict shit.”

“Sure can!”

“You can draw and read—very inaccurately, may I say—a pile of tarot cards. That doesn’t mean you can see the future.”

Zeke crosses his arms. “I also read tea leaves.”

“Again, inaccurately.”

“Not true!”

“When we met, you told me I’d be dating a guy named Tyler in three months.”

Zeke makes a face. “I was close enough.”

“I metTaylorin six. And she was a girl.”

Zeke throws up his hands. “Tyler, Taylor, it’s the same! And since when do you care about gender, huh?”

Gabe shakes his head, holding his hands up in surrender. “I give up.”

“You’re ungrateful, you know that? I offered to give you a glimpse into the future.”

“I’m happy with my present.”

“Fine. How about your present self goes and makes some more cookies? The freezer is running low.”

“Gladly,” Gabe retorts, making a beeline for the kitchen. He undoes his waist apron, exchanging it for a full-length one as heturns the oven on and starts lining up the ingredients for the cookies. Finally, some much needed reprieve.

Adding ingredients to the mixing bowl, Gabe tries to focus on the feeling of the dough forming under his hands instead of daydreaming about impossible scenarios in the future.

Fucking Zeke. This is all his fault.