Zeke is bored, twirling a coffee stirrer in his hand as he watches Dizzee put the finishing touches on the chalkboard out front. He makes it a work of art every time. Today the special is donuts with rose filling, so he’s covered the board in patches of delicate pink roses. He finishes and wipes his chalky hands on his apron, leaving dusty pink smears on the white fabric. He reenters the shop, bell tingling cheerily, and disappears into the back room to put away his chalk.
That leaves Zeke alone behind the counter when the angel walks in. She’s wearing a long white coat, delicate fur collar brushing against her brown skin. Her hair is in a slight disarray, flecked with snowflakes and blown into her face. She rushes towards the counter and begins ordering before he can even remember to greet her.
“I need two dozen chocolate cake donuts and a butterscotch latte, please.”
Before she finishes speaking, she’s digging into her purse, coins tinkling onto the counter. Apparently, she already know exactly how much she owes. She must be in a terrible rush.
Zeke is still frozen, staring at the long lashes brushing her cheekbones as she frowns down at her purse pocket. Dizzee sticks his head out of the back room and notices Zeke’s inaction.
“There’s time to stargaze later, Zeke! ”
Zeke jumps and blushes, for once grateful for Dizzee’s meandering way of speaking. The girl figuring out he was staring at her would be so embarrassing. He fumbles with the sliding door of the glass display case, pulling out the donuts she’d asked for. Dizzee joins him behind the counter and begins making the latte. Zeke fills the box of donuts slowly, taking the opportunity to drink in every detail of her face.
Apparently, he stalls for too long. She shifts uncomfortably and leans forwards, addressing Dizzee as he hands her the latte.
“I’m really sorry but do you think your friend could hurry up? I have to get these to my father’s church before the service begins.”
Dizzee gives her a mild smile and gives Zeke a not so mild kick to the shins.
“Of course, ma’am. Sorry about him.”
Zeke hurriedly pushes the box closed and hands it to her. Dizzee has already gotten her the change and receipt, so she turns with a whirl of hair and fabric and heads for the door. There’s a faint “thank you!” and then she’s out of the shop. Zeke darts around the counter and watches through the front windows as she runs down the street and into the church on the corner.
When she’s disappeared inside, he turns back to the counter, only to find Dizzee smirking at him knowingly.
“Shut up, Dizz.”
He only smirks wider and teases Zeke:
“You say I’m spacey but at least I don’t moon over customers—”
He breaks off with a gasp, eyes focused on the door behind Zeke. The bell tinkles and Zeke turns to see what’s caught his attention. It’s a man, shaking the snow off his broad shoulders. He’s wearing a brown coat with a rough fur collar, blond hair curling around his neck. He looks up at them with big blue eyes, cheeks almost as pink as his lips from the cold, and smiles so brightly the entire room seems to lighten.
Zeke smirks; he's exactly Dizzee’s type. When he takes his coat off, hanging it on the coat hook by the door, he exposes thick, muscled arms to go along with his broad shoulders. Dizzee lets out a quiet “eep!” and begins to blush.
Zeke saunters back behind the counter, fiddling with the donut display, forcing Dizzee to help the man. He orders a ginger green tea and tips handsomely. He gives Dizzee a friendly wave before he leaves, steaming cup of tea in hand.
Dizzee collapses back against the counter, throwing his arm over his face, hiding his blush. Zeke pokes him, taunting him:
“Don't moon over customers, eh?”
Dizzee groans and shoves Zeke away.
“At least I didn't freeze up like you did.”
“Well, I know how to find her, she said that's her father’s church down the road. You don't have any way to contact your mystery boy.”
He holds up a napkin, colorful marker swirling across the thin paper. It's an address, a date, and a time.
Zeke’s jaw drops open.
How the hell did Dizzee end up being smoother than him?