watermelon mojito

part 1: the beginning

Rich had been working the smoothie drive-through for a few months now, and it was one of those warm summer afternoons where the sun seemed to hang lazily in the sky. The steady hum of the blender was almost comforting, blending into the background as Rich leaned out the window to greet the next customer.

"Welcome to Smoothie Paradise! What can I get started for you today?" Rich asked with his usual cheerful tone.

The customer, a middle-aged woman with sunglasses perched on her head, smiled and replied, "I'd like a watermelon mojito, please."

Rich paused for a moment, his brow furrowing in thought. "A watermelon mojito... Do we still make that?" he wondered aloud.

He turned towards the prep area, where Troy was busy arranging fresh fruits and ingredients. Troy had been at the smoothie shop much longer than Rich, and there was something about the way he moved, confident yet relaxed, that Rich admired. His presence always made Rich feel at ease.

"Hey, Troy," Rich called out, catching Troy's attention. "Do we still make the watermelon mojito?"

Troy looked up, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, we do," he replied with a wink. "It's a summer special. I'll whip it up for you."

Rich felt his heart skip a beat. There was something about the way Troy said it, with that easy confidence and the way his eyes lingered on Rich just a moment longer than usual, that made Rich's pulse quicken. He watched as Troy expertly blended fresh watermelon, lime juice, mint, and a splash of soda, the bright pink liquid swirling together into something that looked both refreshing and delicious.

Troy handed the drink to Rich, their fingers brushing briefly as he did. The touch was light, almost accidental, but it sent a warm shiver up Rich's arm. "Here you go," Troy said, his voice soft, almost intimate. "One watermelon mojito, fresh and ready to go."

Rich smiled, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing. "Thanks, Troy," he said, his voice betraying the slightest hint of nervousness.

He turned back to the window, handing the drink to the waiting customer. "Here you are! One watermelon mojito. Enjoy!"

As the customer drove away, Rich couldn't help but glance back at Troy. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in the small, sunlit smoothie shop.

"Thanks for the assist," Rich said, his voice a little steadier now.

"Anytime," Troy replied, that same easy smile on his lips. "You know, Rich, if you ever want to try one of these yourself, I'd be happy to make one for you."

Rich chuckled, trying to hide how much the offer meant to him. "I might just take you up on that," he said, his smile growing as he imagined spending more time with Troy, maybe even outside of work.

As the afternoon sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the shop, Rich couldn't help but feel that this was the start of something special. And maybe, just maybe, the next time Troy made a watermelon mojito, it would be for him.