You Mocha Me Crazy (Coffee Loft: Fall Collection)

11. Aurora

Chapter eleven

Aurora

“Aurora,” Ashlan says, pulling my attention from the schedule I’m working on. “You need to come see this.”

I groan. “What happened?”

“Uh,” she hesitates. “It’s not bad . . . just . . . a lot.” She giggles. “There’s a delivery here for you.”

“Okay, I’m coming.” I follow her to the front where a person—I can’t see if it’s a man or a woman—is holding a huge display of gerbera daisies. “What on earth?”

“Ms. Maxwell?” The flowers move to the left, revealing a petite woman.

“Yes, that’s me,” I say, glancing behind her at two other vases filled with colorful flowers sitting on a nearby table.

“These are for you.” She passes me the bouquet she’s holding. “Have a great day.”

I bring the flowers to my nose and inhale the lovely scent.

“Where’d all these flowers come from?” Mr. Sanders asks as he and Mr. White approach the counter. “Looks like the flower shop threw up in here.” He shakes his head and sneezes, then shuffles further away.

“I think someone’s sweet on our Rory,” Mr. White—Steve—says, looking at the flowers on the table. “Wonder who it could be.”

“No one is sweet on me,” I say firmly. “I’m sure my parents sent them. My birthday’s coming up, you know.” Though, why would they send so many?

“I don’t think so,” Mr. White says, holding a card up and grinning. “Unless your parents think these flowers aren’t as beautiful as you, and they’re named Bradley.” He chuckles and passes the card to Mr. Sanders.

“No, Aurora.” Mr. Sanders says, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Someone’s definitely sweet on you.”

Ashlan giggles. “Wow, no one’s ever sent me flowers at all. Let alone three huge bouquets at once. What do you want me to do with them?” she asks.

Mr. Sanders hands me the card. “Move them to the break table for now,” I say. “I’ll figure out what to do with them from there.” I slide the card into my pocket to look at later. “Gentlemen, what can I get you this evening?”

After delivering their orders, two decaf cappuccinos and a slice of pumpkin pie for each of them, I dip back into the office.

Reaching in my pocket, my fingers graze the card and pull it out. I glance down at the card in my hand. “Piney Brook Florist” is written in swirly font, with a bunch of flowers in the corner. I flip it over and read.

These flowers may be beautiful, but they pale in comparison to your radiant beauty. You light up every room you enter. Never let someone steal your shine. They aren’t worth it. Bradley

The beating of my heart drowns out any noise from the coffee shop. I’ve always thought of Bradley as the enemy, not someone who cares how I feel. Except, every time I push him away, or assume the worst, he shows me a different side of himself. One that I hadn’t expected to see. One that I am finding hard to resist.

What do I do now?

Saturday afternoon, I leave Ashlan and the new part-time girl Bexley to close while I go home and get ready for company. I’m pulling into Harvest Pantry, Piney Brook’s grocery store, when I notice Bradley’s truck parked in the space closest to the doors. I groan.

Do we really need snacks?

I still don’t know what to think about the beautiful flowers, and that message . . . That was sweet. What do I say now? I’m sorry I misjudged you all these years? I think you’re handsome? Ha! No way.

Besides, I’m still the chubby girl who isn’t into dating for the sake of a quick hookup. That part hasn’t changed, and guys don’t seem to want that kind of girl. Or, at least, they don’t want me. Not forever, anyway.

Deciding there’s no way around it, I find a parking space and head inside. I’m just grabbing popcorn, chips, and a fruit bowl. What are the odds I’ll bump into him, anyway?

I spot Miley and Lauren in the produce section, and slide my cart further behind a huge display of toilet paper. Yes, I’m hiding from the mean girls—it’ll make my day simpler if I don’t have to deal with them.

“Aurora,” a deep voice calls from behind me. I jump, slamming the cart into the display and causing the mountain of two-ply to come toppling down. Laughter rings out from nearby, and I swing my head toward the sound.

If the ground could open up and swallow me whole now, that’d be great. Bradley appears next to me and starts grabbing packages of baby-soft toilet paper off the floor. Miley Becket and her BFF Lauren have come over and are both snickering and pointing at the disaster that is my life. How is it possible I run into all of them at the same time? If only there was another grocery store in town, I’d have a fifty-fifty chance at avoiding unwanted company.

Who am I kidding? I’m not that lucky.

“Here, sir. I’ve got it. Happens all the time.” The squeaky voice of a teenager coming to Bradley’s rescue makes the whole situation seem infinitely worse. Why couldn’t a grandmotherly woman have come to help?

“I’m so sorry,” I stammer. “I can help clean it up.”

The teen shakes his head. “No, ma’am, I’ve got it. Thanks.”

“Oh. Okay. Thank you for doing that.” I stand awkwardly, not sure what to do now.

“Come on,” Bradley says, putting his handful of things in my buggy. “Let’s go get your groceries.”

I nod meekly. “Thanks.” He points to the produce section. “Want to start there?”

I shake my head. “No. Let’s go get some chips and popcorn.”

He turns the cart back around and starts walking toward the snack aisle like we’re not leaving the great TP avalanche of ‘24 behind us.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says when he sees me looking behind us for the tenth time. “I’m sure that happens a lot. I once heard tell of a shelf full of laundry detergent exploding across the whole store. It was so slippery, nobody could walk—they had to swim out.”

I giggle. “That can’t be true.”

He shrugs his broad shoulders. “It got you to laugh, though.” He turns the cart down the snack aisle and stops near the popcorn. “Which kind did you want?”

“Why are you being nice to me?” I blurt, slapping my hand over my mouth the minute the words are out.

He laughs nervously. “Well, I’m sure it’s no big secret that I had a crush on you in grade school.”

My jaw drops.

“Okay . . . I guess it was a secret, then,” he says, pointing to a box of popcorn. “That one okay?”

“You what?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You had to know,” he says. “I complimented you every chance I got.”

“You weren’t trying to make fun of me?”

He drops the box of popcorn in the cart and gently grabs my face, one hand on each side of my jaw. “Aurora Maxwell, you were the brightest, most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I’d never, ever make fun of you. I didn’t know how to just tell you I liked you back then, so I thought complimenting you and being around you as much as I could would give you a hint. I am so sorry you were ever bullied because of it.”

“You liked me?” I ask again, unable to comprehend this twist of events.

“I liked you then, and I like you now. Why do you think I’ve been trying to get your attention? Apparently, old habits die hard.” He rubs his hands through his hair. “I’m telling you, right now, Aurora Maxwell. I like you. I’d like to be your friend. More if it’s possible.”

He likes me. My heart feels like it might explode. Bradley Jameson really likes me.

When I don’t respond, he takes my hand and keeps moving down the aisle. “What are we stocking up on snacks for?”

“Oh, girls’ night,” I say. “Lacey invited some women over for a night of pampering and I’ve never done this before, but I figured I should stock up on snacks. That’s what you do when you have company, right?”

“You’ve never had friends over?” he asks, his tone one of disbelief.

“I . . . have. But never a big gathering. Well, not unless you count the study group, but they always brought their own snacks.” I shrug. I have tried to have friends over. I once invited a girl from school over to watch a movie. She didn’t talk the whole time, except to say thank you as she walked out while the credits were rolling. After that, she never talked to me again. I didn’t try again after that, so I’m a bit wary about tonight. My first girl party.

“Okay,” he says, grabbing several bags of chips from the shelves. “Let’s get you ready for girls’ night.”

By the time we’re checked out and loading the bags into my car, I’ve almost forgotten about roll-agedon. Until Lauren runs up and tosses a package of toilet paper into my open trunk before running away and getting into Miley’s waiting car.

“Seriously?” Bradley calls after her, “Thanks, I knew we forgot something.”

At that, Lauren’s laughter stops, and Miley shoots him an evil glare and drives away.

“Thanks for that.”

He shakes his head. “Those two were always trouble.” He places the last bag into my trunk and pushes it closed. “I hope you have fun tonight,” he says, stepping back and grabbing the bag of groceries he’d been there to buy.

“Thanks, I think I will.”

“See you soon.”

He turns to walk away when I realize I never thanked him for the flowers. “Hey, Bradley?” He stops and faces me. “Thanks for the flowers. They were beautiful.”

“My pleasure,” he says, walking away backwards until a car honks at him.

I watch him for a second, trying to wrap my mind around everything. In just a few days, Bradley’s gone from an enemy to a . . . friend?

I pull out of the parking space and see Bradley still sitting in his truck. He waves to me, and pulls out, heading in the opposite direction. Hmm, was he waiting for me?

The girls are all here, conditioner in their hair, clay on their faces, eating snacks and laughing. No one is one-upping anyone, and everyone seems to be so genuine—not a catty one in the bunch. So far, at least. It’s a nice surprise. It’s been my experience that when you get a bunch of women together, they usually spend their time talking about people. Other than Lacey, and now Ashlan, I haven’t had much luck in the friend department. Maybe my luck’s changing. Finally.

“Stop wiggling your nose like that,” Lacey says to me. “You’re going to ruin your mask.”

“It itches,” I complain.

Karlee laughs. “It really does. I think they’re dry enough. Can we wash them off now?”

“Fine,” Lacey says, leading the way down the hallway to the bathroom. “I put a stack of towels on the counter. Feel free to wash it off.”

One by one, the women wash their faces, careful to avoid getting their hair in the mix. Once my face is clean, I scratch my nose and sigh in relief.

“Time to wash out the conditioner,” Anne says. “Care if I use your kitchen sink for that?”

I shake my head no.

Karlee is the first up. She leans over the sink, and Anne uses the detachable sprayer to rinse the goo from her hair.

“I heard someone knocked over a whole tower of toilet paper at the grocery store today,” Briella says. “That would be so embarrassing.”

I feel my cheeks turning red. I’d hoped my disaster wouldn’t be gossip worthy, but here we are.

“It happens,” Ashlan says. “Once, I picked up an orange that was apparently the glue holding the whole pyramid together. They went rolling all over the produce section.” The girls laugh and Anne shares about a video she’d seen on TikTok where someone toppled over a display of feminine hygiene products.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, stepping into the hallway and down to the linen closet. I grab the package Lauren had tossed in my car and headed back to the kitchen. If these girls were my friends, they’d be embarrassed with me, not make fun of me, right? Guess we’ll find out.

“It was me,” I say, stepping back into the room with the toilet paper held high. “I knocked over the TP mountain. It was the wipe-out heard throughout Piney Brook.”

Everyone gasps and giggles. “Oh my gosh, were you embarrassed?” Lacey asks, popping a chip into her mouth.

I nod. “I’m pretty sure if I could’ve disappeared, I would’ve.”

“What did you do?” Karlee asks, her eyes as big as saucers.

“Well, I stood there in shock. Then Bradley came to my rescue.” I feel heat creep up to my cheeks.

Lacey whoops and claps her hands together. “I knew he was your knight in shining armor!”

“More like her knight in denim and steel-toed boots,” Anne says, smiling. “That man must be a saint to work with Hudson every day.” She rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the blush that stains her cheeks, either.

“He’s something,” I say. What exactly? I’m not sure just yet.