coffee boy || luke hemmings

1: Nameless, Shameless

7:55am

April 1st, Friday

Cath's Classy Coffee, Beverly Hills

He wasn't here yet.

He got here every day at 7:55.

He was a minute late.

"Stop." Cath, my boss, scolded me. She had noticed my continuous tapping on the register keys out of anxiety. Cath was a 30-year-old, single, coffee shop owner who was the best boss ever. She may have been 13 years older than me but she understood the struggle of being a 17-year-old girl in high-school better than anyone. Senior year was tough as hell but the upside was that my first class wasn't until 10am. That meant more time at the shop in the morning so I could vent to Cath for the entire morning shift.

"What if he doesn't come?" I asked her, sitting up on the counter. The shop was half full; people sat in the seats by the windows and some sat at the tables scattered about the medium sized shop.

"You'll survive." She said with an eye roll. Passing by to go in the back, she patted my knee and went to go start on bills.

7:57

Maybe the rain was holding him up? I thought with a glance outside. It was downpouring out there.

7:58

I turn my phone on but realize that it was useless because I didn't have his number.

7:59

Maybe he got in a car crash? 

8:00

Nothing.

"Goddamnit," I muttered under my breath. Sighing, I hopped off the counter and landed with both feet on the ground. I cast one last glance around the shop and out the windows before disappearing into the back. Cath was sat behind the massive wood desk in her office, stacks of paperwork cluttering the surface. 

  "Nothing?" She asked, shock evident in her voice that my mystery boy hadn't shown up yet. 

We called him Coffee Boy. The six-foot-four, blue-eyed and dark blond haired dreamboat that had come in nearly every day for the past four months. Coffee Boy was charismatic, funny, adorkable, and Australian. However, he refused to give me his fricking name. It drove me crazy but it was kind of exciting. 

Here I was, this epically lame brown haired, green eyed girl from California. 

And he was this ruggedly handsome, smooth talking, hottie. For some reason, I  had his interest even if it be just as friends. With the exception of his name, I knew a lot about him. He traveled a lot for work, and every time he would go away for a week or two he would tell me.

"Carter?" Cath said, snapping her fingers. "'Course, you're thinking about him." She rolled her eyes and handed me a stack of bills and a calculator.

"You sure you don't want me to count hours?" I asked, looking at the bills. I'm pretty sure the only reason Cath hired me was because I was a math genius and she couldn't do arithmetic if her life depended on it. 

"What the hell would I do without you?" Cath sighed, and moved the paperwork around until she found the book of hours. 

"You wouldn't have a business," I said blatantly.

"Four years, Cart." She said referring to how long she'd had the coffee shop. I was her first employee, and only 13 years old. Technically illegal but who cares when you look older?