Finding Love in a Coffee Shop

Caramel Macchiato

"What are your plans for Christmas?"

His question threw me off guard for a moment. Christmas? I'd almost forgotten, even though it was in three days. Forgetting would've been better since I didn't have any extra money for anything this year. I'd managed to get Dustin a few small things, but... I realized Will was still waiting for an answer so I shook my head. "I don't know. Why?"

Clearing his throat, he offered me a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry I didn't clear this with you beforehand, but my brother kind of wanted to have a Christmas dinner together since I'm not going to my family's dinner."

"You're not going?" I echoed.

"Well, you've met my mom. I don't feel comfortable, anyway."

I frowned at him. "You should still go."

He shook his head. "No. That would leave you alone, wouldn't it? I'd rather be here with you and your brother."

"Will, don't feel like you have to stay with us just because we're—"

"I'm not," he interjected, giving me a flat look. "Katie, you know that's not it."

I sunk a little in my seat, embarrassed. "No, you're right, I do, sorry."

He nodded. "Your company is much preferred to my mother, anyway. But I was thinking, and I know this is really short notice, but maybe we could have a Christmas-eve dinner here with Matt and maybe Dimitri if he's interested in stopping by? Your friend Clara, too. Nothing too big, but at least something to celebrate together."

"Yeah," I agreed immediately. "Yeah, that's perfectly okay. More than okay. It's been a while since... yeah."

Will's eyes brightened and he beamed at me. "Great! I can do the shopping tomorrow since the café's closed until the twenty-sixth. I'll pay for the groceries— oh, speaking of which." Pushing himself off from the couch, he walked over to his coat and felt around in the pockets for a few moments before retrieving a white envelope. A grin was on his face as he returned, tossing the envelope into my lap. "For you, my rent."

Curiously, I slid the top open, peering into it. It contained a check. Suddenly nervous, I slowly extracted it and peeked at the amount. "Whoa," I exhaled, shoving the check back at Will. "No."

"No?"

"I won't accept that much," I told him, shaking my head. "Absolutely no way."

Will tried to force the check into my hands again. "This isn't much at all!"

"Last time I checked, five thousand dollars is a bit much for a month's rent."

He paused. "Okay, two months."

"No."

"Three? That's as much as I'll give you. And I get to pay for the groceries."

"Will," I protested, clenching my hands into fists. "I can't accept that. It's not fair—"

Will snorted. "It's completely fair. You're letting me stay at your house—"

"Because you need to!"

"And you got your hours at work cut—"

"I'll still be okay!"

"I need to pay rent—"

"Two-hundred a month is fine," I cut him off again, growing impatient. "Not five thousand."

Will stuck his chin out stubbornly. "I'm rich."

This caught me. He had a point. But still, it felt wrong taking so much money for him. "No," I finally said.

"If you don't accept it, I'll use every cent to buy plastic flamingos and decorate your lawn with them," he threatened solemnly. "I swear I will."