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Summary
“So you’re a night owl,” Trevor said, somewhere in his second week making drinks for Adrian. He set the latte in front of him and squeezed into the chair on the other side of Adrian’s usual table. “Student? Grad student? Surprisingly young professor?”
“You’re full of questions tonight,” Adrian said. He drew the ceramic bowl closer, wrapping his pale hands around it; Trevor ignored his soft sigh, the way his eyelashes fluttered at the warmth soaking into his palms.
***
When a golden-haired stranger walked into his coffee shop late one night, Trevor thought three things: he was beautiful, he had a shitty attitude, and it was a fucking terrible time for Sypha to go on her break and leave all the work to him.
Two weeks later, Trevor's view had shifted: Adrian was still irritatingly beautiful...and someone he had a hell of a lot of fun talking to.
And two weeks after that? Well. No one could ever accuse Trevor of making good decisions.