[C] Coffee Me Now

School?

Didn't expect her as an academic bitch. Did she drop out? Why did he care?

"Fucking finally."

Then he can get his report done. The sleep. With his phone on fucking silent because he refused to take on another assignment.

With a few more little touch ups, she was done.

She set the gun down, wiped away the blood, and wiped it clean with disinfectant.

"And we're done."

She sat back. "Take a look at it. Ooh, ahh. Send a pic to the girlfriend. Then let me wrap it up and take your money.

He sat up and looked at his foot from side to side.

An actual, real, grin bloomed across his face. It knocked a few years off his face, and a dimple showed on the right side.

"I would if I could, it looks fucking amazing."

Seeing it now in colour, he was incredibly happy with it. The receptionist was right. She was a fantastic artist. 

He leaned back in the chair.

"Wrap it up then, sweetheart."

"Hot abs like yours don't have a woman to lick them?" she asked, brows arched in shock. "Criminal."

Angela reached for the clingfilm, and wrapped it firmly around his foot a few times.

She slipped her gloves off and stood. "Ready to be mugged, baby boy?"

Now all the fun stuff was done, he just needed to pay her, and he could go back on his way.

"They are saliva free morning noon and night."

Not that he was entirely bothered. Having someone else to constantly please was work. Sometimes, he was even too tired to use his own hand.

He stood and kicked on his flip-flops. He hadn't thought about what he put on at three am this morning. He just put on the easiest and closest things. He was very glad it was his flip-flops. 

"Here I was thinking of fucking legging it."

"Now that is a shame. Find me if you want that to change. I am more than willing to show them what they've been missing out."

She didn't usually flirt this heavily with her clients. It usually didn't take long for them to shoot her down, and when that happened, she usually reigned in with an accepting shrug. 

Not many people enjoyed her strong personality.

But this guy met her blow for blow, and hadn't demanded she stop, so she'd just carried on.

"Try it, gorgeous. You won't get far." There was no way he could run from this one.

"Did Rai discuss price with you before she pulled a sickie?"

"A tenner."

He leaned against the back of the chair and crossed his arms. His expression and tone deadpan.

It was an attempt at a joke.

"All right then."

Angela nodded as she made her way back towards the front of the shop, gesturing for him to follow her.

"That's a tenner fee for lying to me on top of the forty five you owe for the tattoo, gorgeous." She smiled brightly at him over her shoulder as she sidled behind the counter.

Adrian looked her over and grabbed his wallet. He counted out the notes and dropped a few coins on top. He had a fiver, but he'd felt like being an ass and giving it to her in small change.

"How about this?"

He leaned forward on the counter and patted the money.

He was delirious. Absolutely fucking delirious. He was going to do something he was going to fucking regret.

"Forty-five and I can get you a drink tomorrow night."

She was a piece of fucking fungus.

Rafaella, who was stood talking to Ti about her favourite topic (her ex boyfriend, much to everyone else's distaste), paused mid-word when she heard Adrian speak.

Both she and Ti turned to watch the two of them in utter silence.

Had he just asked Angela out?

Angela drew upwards slightly in interest at the offer, her reply already spilling from her lips. "Make it a body shot and you're on, Abs."

She'd lick salt off his abs any day of the week.

A smile fought its way on his lips. His coffee-fueled brain was half aware of the silence that had taken over the shop. Honestly, he didn't blame them. He was fucking shocked himself.

"Deal. Ten at The Last Stand?"

"You got it, Abs."

Her lips quirked up into a smile as she picked up the notes and coins he'd set down onto the counter.

"Shave, won't you, gorgeous? No one wants to be licking salt off hairy abs." She certainly didn't, for sure. Just the thought was a turn-off. All that coarse hair against her tongue... nah.

"Tell Patch he better be giving us the good tequila. No mezcal shit."

She reached up, tapping his chin flirtily, and dropping him a wink as she turned back towards the back rooms. "See you tomorrow, gorgeous."

"No fucking promises on the shaving."

What was he? A fucking sheep?

He only shaved on special occasions, or if his hair was getting annoyingly long. Neither of those things was happening.

"But of course I won't get that mezcal shit."

Just the thought of that made him gag.

Her wink caused his dimple to reappear.

"See ya, you thieving bitch."

He shook his head as she left, and turned to make his way back home where an unwritten report and his bed waited for him.