Aliyah West has a very simple life, that is until she agrees to be the interim incharge of her mother's bakery-cafe and her crush, Noah, decides to apply.
Things are bound to turn topsy and turvy. And Aliyah is sure she is going to be a disaster.
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(to crazymaniac_ for reading this after i ask (force) her to)
“YOU ARE LATE,” I announced to Noah who sauntered in late by ten minutes.
His eyes immediately shot to mine, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “And I see you got your voice back,” he said as he removed his muffler, careful to place it inside a box now. His eyes flitted to me for a quick second, humor shining in the big brown ones. “Also, to answer your question--” I waved a hand, cutting him off.
“I did not ask a question,” I told him, staring at the wall clock hung over the brick wall. His head turned in the same direction my eyes did and a realization of sorts seemed to dawn on his face.
“Right,” he continued as he cleared his throat after turning to me, “You might want to replace the battery in those because that clock, my dear sweetheart, is not working,” he explained and I narrowed my eyes, pulling out my phone to see that Noah was, in fact, not late. He was five minutes early.
I cursed under my breath but when I looked up, I painted my face a neutral blank and lashed him a smile--the one that was as mocking as his dear sweetheart was.
“Get to work, then, Scott,” I said to him, faxing a bill for cold coffee with extra ice cream.
“Since you are so punctual, you better not think that I’ll start working until my shift starts,” he teased as he pushed the sleeves of his sweater past his elbows and quickly swung over the counter. Noah, I was starting to notice, never used the actual way to come to this side. It was a weird observation but so was the fact that he swung over the counter everytime.
Another one of his weird quirks was wearing his favorite mufflers at all times of the day--despite the weather.
“So, was it my home remedy that worked or you took some medicines?” he questioned as he leaned all his body weight over the counter. He ran a hand through his perfectly messed hair, nearly me making me forget how much change I was supposed to return to the customer.
“That’ll be fifty cents, Miss,” the customer reminded me and I blushed, looking away from Noah as I finally registered how impatient the man in front of me was.
“Here,” I said as I handed him his money.
“Someone distracting you from work?” Noah jumped at the chance of teasing me.
“Maybe,” I replied, not missing a beat and I saw how he blinked for a second, not really expecting a reply from me. But his features were quick enough to mold into that of confidence again.
