
All I wanted was a free shot of cream. Cream. For my coffee. For my soul. Because I'm broke and sad and it's 3 p.m. That cursed hour when I start questioning all my life choices and Googling "How to disappear without a trace." The barista said, "Say something sweet." Easy. I had a whole list prepared in my head. A. "You look like you give good hugs." B. "You smell like freshly baked decisions." and C. "Are you Google? Because you have everything I'm looking for." "I love you." I-HELLO?! BRAIN?! YOU THERE? We talked about this. Option C. OPTION. C. I panicked. "I meant-I love cream. Your cream. Not like, your cream. I mean the cream cream, the-coffee one. That goes in the cup. Not-OH MY GOD." He leaned over the counter, real cocky. "So... you want my love and my cream?" "Just give me the coffee. And maybe a new identity." He burst out laughing, actually wheezing. "You know what? For that performance? You're getting the whole damn espresso machine."All Rights Reserved
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