Caramel (wlw)

chapter 11- shirt

Do I need glasses, or was Laura actually shaking?

I raised an eyebrow as she approached the counter and rested her arms on the laminated wood.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. I just thought I knew him." She turned over her shoulder, but he was gone.

"He thought he knew me." Her head whipped back toward me so fast I got worried.

"Do you? Know him?" Now I had to raise both eyebrows.

"No."

She made the facial equivalent of ???, which was kind of cute, but that's not the point. The point is that Laura's behavior right now is suspicious; more so than when she was still a closet vampire. What's up with that?

"It's nothing, Val." I guess she can read my mind, then. Wait, can she? Nearly every single thought I've ever had about Laura is for no one else's perusal—especially not Laura's.

"What's wrong with you?" She waved a hand in front of my eyes.

"I was thinking." I'm pretty sure I stuttered.

"First time?" I didn't even have time to be offended when she leaned forward, bringing her face way too close to mine. I zoomed backward—straight into Isabel, another employee, who was carrying something in a cup. The sloshing of the drink sounded like god's laughter.

"What the fuck," she said. Same.

"My bad, sorry." I could feel the cold on my shoulder and down my back. At least my shirt got all of it; remarkably, none spilled on the floor. I can't stay like this, all that liquid sugar is going to make things uncomfortable. I made my way to the backroom.

Laura, who had been watching in silence with equal parts glee and concern on her face, moved to follow me. Isabel, too busy making the same drink double time, didn't stop her.

No one else was there, so I took off my apron and shirt. I heard a low whistle behind me; I turned to find Laura with her hands raised.

"This is sort of my fault, so I feel like I have to help." She took the shirt from my hand.

"You really don't have to." She gave a dismissive hum as she walked to the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the silence. Even though there was no one around, I felt shy. I've never been shirtless at my job.

"Stop moving, you'll get coffee everywhere." Shit, yeah. It started to drip down to the waistband of my pants. Meanwhile, Laura was advancing with my wet shirt in her hands. She had me sit in a chair and wiped off the remaining sugar sludge from my back.

"Are you using my shirt as a rag?" I asked, as she batted my hands away as I tried to reach for it.

"It's not like I have options."

"The option to leave and let me do it myself is available." As a last-ditch effort, I grabbed for the rag-shirt, but took hold of her wrist instead. I let go immediately.

"I told you, I got it." I made a noncommittal noise, either too proud or too embarrassed to actually reply.

"At least it wasn't hot." Another grunt. This went on for a while, with her trying to make conversation and me responding with noises from the back of my throat.

Suddenly I felt something that wasn't my shirt touch my back.

"Val? Your muscles look really good," Laura whispered in my ear, as she dragged her finger down my skin. I literally jumped out of the chair.

"It's not drinking day." She stared at me, her expression somehow amused and disappointed at the same time. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"What are you going to wear?" I hadn't thought that far ahead, and I certainly couldn't start thinking now that Laura shrugged off her overcoat and started pulling her shirt over her head. Okay good, she had another shirt under that. But she's taking that one off too, and I looked away before I could study the lace pattern on her bra. She handed me her innermost shirt. Still, I didn't look at her as I took it; I could hear her quiet laughter.

"Why didn't you just give me the other shirt?" I asked as I put the thing on.

"It would ruin my color scheme today."

"Who the fuck wears two shirts?"

"Hey," she said, her tone an exaggerated accusation, "shouldn't you be grateful I had an extra shirt for you? What would you have done if I weren't here?"

"First off, I wouldn't have had to go through this if you didn't come."

"Yeah no, who's to say you wouldn't have walked into that poor girl on your own?"

"You smell like water."

Her face went through several expressions as she tried to process this statement, but mostly she just looked confused. I took the opportunity to push past her to get on with my job. It's true, though. Her shirt smelled like her, and she smelled like water. It's a strange way of putting it, but it's refreshing.

Shooting Isabel an apologetic look, I resumed my position behind the counter as Laura trailed behind me.

"Hey, respect the No-Customers-Behind-The-Counter rule."

"I'm not behind the counter." She was standing just beyond right where the counter ended. I grunted in reply and turned to the prep area to make her a latte.

Still, she stood in place, and I kept sneaking looks at her. Hands in her pockets, she looked like she wanted to say something. I'm not in the mood.

"Here," I said, thrusting the cup toward her. I cut her off just as she opened her mouth.

"It's on the house, now go sit down and brood."

"Is there almond milk in this?" She was smiling, looking at the cup.

"No? Are you allergic?" I'm sure I've given her whole milk before.

"No, I just like almond milk but you guys charge extra so I never get it. Since this one is free, I thought I'd, you know, milk the opportunity."

I'd have thrown something at her, but my shop's reputation would go down if word got around that the staff was assaulting customers. So, she walked away unscathed, chuckling to herself.

The rest of the day went by without any more incidents, though I brought Laura another drink before my shift ended.

I went home earlier than she did, wanting some quiet time for myself. Sometimes you just have to be alone, in bed, sleeping uninterrupted for as many hours as you can.

My phone woke me up, sometime past midnight, with an alert that said my security alarm at the shop just went off.