Coffee Shop

• 02 •

"Nice to meet you, too, Brian," I managed to find the words to respond to him, but it felt like hours, compared to the minutes it'd truly been. I had my reasons.

One, the coffee was downright delicious. A perfect, smooth blend that really left you satisfied at the end. Boy, could he deliver, huh?

And two... well, I watched him. The way he'd leaned in, that dimple on his cheek. He sort of snorted or sighed before each smile. It was the cutest thing I'd ever seen a guy do.

Brian turned around and grabbed an empty coffeepot, then moved it towards a small sink that sat in the corner behind his counter. "I have a question," he said.

The coffee mug was still against my lips. I responded with a few quick blinks, waiting for him to speak.

"Is your name really 'Kay?'" He gave me a quick side glance. "Considering, you know—" He nodded towards the window. "—the obvious."

"Oh," I muttered the word before I shouted in my head. Oh! His coffee shop! Wow, I must have looked vain.

"No, no, really." I placed the cup in front of me and smiled. "My name is Kay. Er, well, it's Khadijah, but you know, I have three cousins with the same name, and I hate being compared with other people, especially family. They also said I look like a Khadijah, whatever. I was about five when I shortened it to just Kay. Only my parents call me by my full name."

"Three cousins?" He placed the pot on a rack to dry, then turned to face me. "Are you the oldest?"

"No." I traced my finger around the rim of the cup. "I'm the youngest."

"And they still gave you the same name?"

Slowly, I nodded.

"Wow." He laughed way too loud. I lifted just my eyes to look at him as he said, "Sounds like we're in the same boat."

"What?" I tried not to pout, but I knew I failed miserably. "You look like a Brian?"

Brian reached below the counter for a few foam cups and placed them on top. After, he grabbed lids, too. He organized his supplies, pressed a few buttons on the coffee machines behind him, before looking back at me with a delectable smirk.

"I don't think anyone looks like a name," he said, "but what I meant was my name—Brian. I have two uncles, my dad, and three Grandfathers with the same name. I'm literally Brian Miller the fifth, even though there are more than five, but, ya know. My mom wouldn't let my dad put it on my birth certificate, but that didn't mean people didn't call me Fifth growing up."

I snorted, covering my mouth, trying to hide it. "Fifth?"

He nodded. And I snorted again.

"It isn't funny." Despite what he said, he smiled and snorted with me. While I sounded like a small, porky-pig, Brian's snort was more... husky, mixing with a sigh and a breath. The sound alone made a colony of butterflies dance in my belly.

"I'm sorry," I said, finally, and returned to my coffee.

Like that, we finished our small talk. He returned to his daily coffee shop tasks, preparing muffins, doughnuts. He'd even gone to the back of his café once or twice, only to return with trays of cookies. I watched him the entire time, wondering how he could do it all himself. By the time I finished my cup, he'd stacked the entire counter with sweets of all kinds and placed little price markers in front of them.

The cupcakes were two dollars, and I squealed on the inside. I had enough for coffee and a cupcake.

Pointing at one of the red velvet treats covered in delicious cream cheese frosting, he smiled. "Did you want a cupcake, too?"