Number one and only. [Nicholas &team]

Chapter 7 - Off the Clock

The evening rush at the small corner café had thinned to a quiet hum. Nicholas stood behind the counter, the sleeves of his black uniform shirt rolled just past his elbows, dark apron tied neatly around his waist. His glasses caught the warm amber glow of the hanging lights as he rang up an order for a pair of giggling customers.
They weren’t giggling about the coffee.
Two girls leaned on the counter, tossing casual compliments his way, making it obvious they were trying to flirt. Nicholas didn’t miss a beat — his tone remained politely flat, his eyes barely lifting from the register.
“Here’s your change,” he said, sliding the coins across. “Your drinks will be at the pickup counter.”
Their smiles faltered, and with a few hushed whispers between them, they returned to their seats.
Nicholas barely noticed.
The door jingled.
A light breeze swept in — and with it, Ava.
She didn’t look like she’d just stepped out of Northbridge High anymore. The blazer and skirt were gone, replaced with a loose cream sweater tucked effortlessly into high-waisted jeans, a thin gold chain resting at her collarbone. Her ponytail was gone too — now her hair was down, soft waves falling past her shoulders, catching the light every time she moved.
It was a look that drew eyes instantly, but she seemed used to that.
Her gaze swept the café — then landed on him.
“Oh, Nicholas,” she said, walking up to the counter with an easy smile. “So you work here.”
He gave a small nod. “What can I get you?”
“Americano,” she said.
He turned toward the espresso machine, moving with a quiet efficiency that was almost hypnotic. The hiss of steaming water filled the air, the rich scent of coffee deepening as he poured.
Ava rested her hands lightly on the counter, watching. The way his long fingers worked the portafilter, the way he measured everything without hesitation, the way he didn’t fill silence with unnecessary words — it was… different. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone. He wasn’t trying at all.
He’s too much, she thought, finding herself oddly fascinated.
“Are you free tomorrow?” she asked suddenly.
He didn’t glance up. “No. I have my part-time job here.”
She tilted her head. “Which days don’t you work?”
“Sundays.”
He slid the Americano across the counter. She took it, the paper cup warm against her palms.
Ava gave a small nod. “See you tomorrow at school, then.”
She turned and headed for the door, the bell above it chiming as she stepped out into the fading evening.
Nicholas watched her reflection disappear in the glass, then turned back to wipe down the counter, the lingering scent of her perfume mixing faintly with the aroma of coffee.