Coffee and Cafés - Book Two of the Café Latte Trilogy

Caramel Latte

TW: brief mentions of alcoholism and eating disorders

*

Café Latte is a book about thriving, a book about finding a happy and fulfilling life after difficult periods.

It looks at Tom's life once it started getting really good. So there will be mentions of his struggles, and other people's struggles. But it won't be graphic.

I personally have PTSD, I'm in a wheelchair due to autoimmune disorders, I'm in recovery from an eating disorder, the list is long. I know what it's like to struggle. But I also know what it's like to find happiness in a world that seems so very dark.

I won't sit here and pretend it's all glorious. Some days, I feel like hell. But I can honestly say that it does get easier, and better, and happiness will come to you.

Remember: recovery is not a linear process. All stages of recovery are valid.

And if anyone ever needs someone to talk to, please know my inbox is always open. Please don't suffer alone. I am here for you.

Love, Cam.

Caramel Latte

The day of the benefit arrived swiftly, and I accepted Owen's offer of driving us there so we didn't have to rely on public transport. "So," he said, as I got into the car. "Your boss is going to be there tonight, right?"

I sat in the passenger seat and fastened my seatbelt. "What, no kissing? No inappropriate groping before we set off?"

Owen grinned, cocking an eyebrow. "Thought I'd do that just before we went into the hall so you'd have to awkwardly hide that you're hard."

"Impossible to hide in a suit, I'm afraid," I grinned, leaning over to kiss him. "You look hot."

"You, too," he kissed me enthusiastically, biting down on my lower lip, making me shiver. "Ha, I win," he said, nodding at where my dick was waking up. "Seriously though, your boss is going to be there, right?"

"Yes, he is," I replied. "And Cinzia - I think you'll like her." He started up the car and I said, "Are you sure about driving? If you want to drink I'm fine to get the bus."

"Oh, I don't drink," he said, pulling out into the road. "I don't mind if other people do, but I went teetotal a few years ago."

I was surprised; it wasn't often I met someone who never drank alcohol. "Well, I know for a fact they've got some fun mocktails tonight. I think there's a watermelon flavoured one."

Owen beamed. "Awesome. I'm pretty open about not drinking, but I know it raises questions." He carefully reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, handing it to me. I opened it, looking at the coin with 'three years' etched onto it. "I'm a recovering alcoholic," he told me. "Three years sober."

"Oh, that's awesome," I told him. "Seriously, well done. Three years is loads."

"Thanks," he smiled. "Like I said, I don't mind if other people drink, so don't feel like you have to hold back. I'm pretty secure in my sobriety now that it doesn't affect me."

"Well, I'm good without alcohol," I smiled. "I like it when I'm out, but I wasn't going to drink tonight anyway, as it's my first big work event. I really don't want to embarrass myself by drunk-dancing."

Owen grinned. "Pity, I bet that's very fun to watch."

"Plus, I like being sober for our after-work activities," I teased him, my hand dancing up his thigh. He laughed, shifting in his seat so my hand didn't reach anywhere else. I teased him right up until when we reached the hall, and he laughed. "Now you're going to witness my horrifically bad parallel parking."