Gathered Up. Annabeth Albert

love it,” I said.

      “And that one.” He indicated the one next to it, identical to the cozy I’d given Renee, except he’d done something to make the logo stand out in relief more. “Pick any others.”

      “Ah.” I studied the rest of the table. “My second favorite is that one.” I pointed at one done to look like a little zebra, complete with ears on the sides and a tail in back.

      “I concur.” He smiled, and something passed between us, something so palpable I could almost grab it with both hands.

      The winner was an elfin young woman who wore a zebra-inspired cardigan, hat, and fingerless mitts. At least she was committed to a theme. I got her a mug and returned to the counter.

      “I’m so happy Randy asked me to work tonight,” Audrey said, touching my sleeve. Her blueish-purple hair shook as she spoke, and she had this habit of touching me or brushing against me while trading places behind the counter that I really didn’t like. “He was so sweet and gave me some extra hours at the Northwest store next week because I’m saving for my summer trip to Greece.”

      Yup. That sounded like Randy. He knew I needed the hours in the worst way, but he liked to play favorites with the baristas of both genders who got flirty—as well as the ones who could be the most flexible with the schedule. I didn’t flirt, and I could no longer be as available as I once was.

      I was, however, a damn good barista, and I really needed Evren to order something other than an Americano so I could show off my skills with flair. I’d won a regional contest with my ability to make pictures in cappuccino foam as well as other skills, and if all went well, I’d be heading to the national coffee championships in a few months. We needed that win—Renee, the kids, and I were crammed into a tiny two-bedroom apartment. The cash prize of the contest would let us get enough float in the bank account for a bigger rental.

      Yet another reason why I shouldn’t be daydreaming about Evren or reworking the plan I’d come up with earlier. I needed to focus on the kids, the contest, and keeping it all together. But that didn’t stop me from grinning big when Evren came back for a second drink and a big cookie.

      “I’m hoping to get Mira to eat part of this,” he said as he paid. “They said her appetite would come and go, but I’m having such a hard time getting her to eat anything.”

      “You have to get her home after Knit Night?” I asked. I already knew Mira lived above her store, and that she owned her building. The Alberta gossip loop kept close track of who bought, who rented, and who was looking to sell to one of the higher-end places moving in as the area became more and more gentrified.

      “Yes.” Evren rubbed his lightly stubbled jaw. “She’s probably exhausted even though she’ll never admit it.”

      “You ever go out again after she’s settled?” I asked, sticking my toe in waters I had no business swimming in.

      “I have not yet.” Evren didn’t sound disinterested and his eyes watched me intently. My heart beat double-time.

      “You haven’t had much chance to explore the neighborhood. I was wondering if you might want to grab a beer—”

      “Evren! How do you do a cable again?” A busty woman with half a sweater on giant needles interrupted us.

      He gave me a pained expression, and his mouth moved like he wasn’t sure who to reply to.

      “It’s okay. You can get back to me.” I grabbed a rag and started wiping down the counter, freeing him to answer the knitting question. I had a feeling the electricity zooming between us was mutual, but I had no way of knowing how open he was about his sexuality and didn’t want to presume.

      As I was watching Evren help the knitter, Audrey came up from behind and wrapped her arms around me.

      “What the heck?” I stepped to the side and kept my voice low.

      “Oh you. I was just having the best daydream, thinking about the last time we worked late together.” She touched my neck with a hand that was far too familiar. Her voice wasn’t a whisper, nor was the memory she alluded to welcome. “I was thinking about a repeat?”

      “I’ve got plans,” I said curtly.

      “Bah. Another time.” She flitted away. She wasn’t a bad person by any means, but she did have the worst timing on earth. Evren glanced over at me and frowned. More than just irritation, there was disappointment in his expression. Fuck. He’d heard or seen too much. A heavy feeling descended on me, one that didn’t lift as the knitters started drifting away. Evren started straightening tables, which was not his job, the perfect excuse for me to leave the counter and go help him.

      “You don’t have to do that,” I said, moving some chairs out of the way. The ladies always ended up shoving most of the tables together and pulling chairs every which way.

      “No, it is fine,” he said as he straightened a table. “We should be courteous to the shop.”

      “Appreciated,” I said. He wasn’t looking at me, and I had a feeling I knew what the answer would be, but I had to ask anyway. “So, a beer?”

      “Thanks, but…no.” That pained expression was back. He glanced over at Audrey, who was cleaning the machines behind the bar.

      Hell. “I’m not…” I moved my hands restlessly. “I’m not involved with anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. And the invitation was totally open as friends, too.”

      “You were involved, though?” Evren kept his voice low. “You and the female barista?”

      “We…collided a few months back.” That was the best description of it really. We’d been working late together, she’d been flirting heavily, and I’d been almost a year without touch from either gender. She was vivacious and knew exactly what she wanted—something I found hard to resist in either gender. But she’d caught me at an exceptionally weak moment, as I’d left my random hookup days far behind, or so I’d thought. “Nothing repeated. Nothing serious.”

      Evren’s frown deepened. “I do not usually do casual. Or bisexual.”

      “You don’t do bi?” I gaped at him, my jaw seriously hanging open. I could get not doing casual—more power to him. If my life had any room in it, which it most certainly did not, I wouldn’t do casual anymore either. But bi? What the fuck? Bi erasure was so five years ago. Ev needed to join this decade.

      “Let’s just say I have my reasons. And I don’t mean to be rude—”

      “But you are.” I shoved a chair in with more force than strictly necessary. “It was just a beer, man.”

      “No, it wasn’t.” Evren shook his head sadly. “Good night, Brady.”

      Fuck this. I finished the rest of the closing with a lot of stomping around and minimal talk with Audrey. I was being ridiculous. I really had no time for someone like Evren, especially not someone with bizarre prejudices, but damn if I wasn’t more than a little put out.

      Chapter 3

      My friends, you keep asking for an update on how I like being back in Portland, and if I miss Brooklyn. I do miss Brooklyn, and adjustments are…complicated, but my focus now is on my dear Hala Mira’s health. And to that end, I share with you the restorative silk and merino shawl I’ve designed for her for the drafty treatment rooms at the hospital. —Evren’s Yarnings

      Not surprisingly, Evren dropped his near-daily coffee habit, which shouldn’t have depressed me, but it did. It meant he had been coming around to see me, and my mouth filled with a sour tang that he was rejecting me for something over which I had no control. But after a few days of silence, Mira came over by herself.

      Even if the lack of Evren made me grind my teeth a bit, seeing her out and about with a good appetite for our soup and bread and a chai tea brightened my day. Because she seemed so small and frail, I took advantage of the fact that we were a little slow