The Barista's Number – Part 2: Second Cup

By the second week, Sam had a regular order: a flat white with an extra shot, no sugar, and a drawing of a mug in the foam, which Rafa did badly and Sam pretended to love.

"You're getting better," Sam said, on the Thursday, sipping carefully.

"I'm getting worse," said Rafa. "The mug looks like a potato."

"It looks like a very hot potato."

Priya leaned over the till and gave them both a look. "Are you two going to be weird at my counter all week, or can I get on with my shift?"

"We're not being weird," said Sam.

"We're being romantic," said Rafa, and Priya rolled her eyes so hard she nearly lost her glasses.

After the rush, they walked to the river together, cups in hand, through the slow orange light of early evening. Portland smelled of rain and cut grass. Bicycles glided past on the riverside path. Sam walked close enough that their sleeves brushed.

"Can I tell you something?" Sam asked.

"Always."

"I've never been on a proper date," said Sam. "Not one where the other person actually listened. Mostly I've been the friend who gets asked for advice."

"Then I'll be bad at it," said Rafa. "And you can tell me when."

"You're not bad at it."

"I've been practising," said Rafa, grinning. "I brought you a scone."

Sam stopped walking and stared at him. "You did not."

"I did. It's blueberry. Priya said it was your favourite."

"Priya is a traitor and I love her," said Sam, and took the scone with both hands, like something precious.

They sat on a bench by the water and ate in companionable silence, watching the ducks argue over crumbs. When Sam finished, he brushed his fingers together carefully and turned to Rafa.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked.

"Yes," said Rafa. "Only if you tell me your favourite thing about me first."

"That you drew the potato," said Sam, with a grin. "And that you're terrible at mugs and still tried."

"Then yes," said Rafa, and Sam leaned in and kissed him, slow and sweet, tasting of blueberry and tea.

When they pulled apart, the river was silver and the sky was turning violet.

"Green?" Sam asked softly.

"Green," said Rafa. "Very green. Same time next Thursday?"

"Yes. And I'll bring you a mug," said Sam. "Let's see what you do with that."

"Please don't," said Rafa, laughing. "You'll ruin the entire counter."