Page 246 of What We Bury

Today’s diner shift feels like an out-of-body experience. I’m standing behind the counter, slinging coffee and sending through orders, but none of it feels real. My body is here, muscle memory moving through the day, but the rest of me is somewhere else—a thousand miles inside my own head, cycling through piecemeal memories from last night.

I’ve been smiling about it since I woke up this morning and we all crammed around the table eating Milo’s ridiculously shaped pancakes. I need to stop before someone decides I’ve lost my marbles.

The morning rush comes and goes—families on vacation, college kids slouched and hungover because summer break is just one big party—I refill coffees, run plates, take an order from the table of construction workers who come in every morning and tip exactly fifteen percent regardless of service quality. The soreness fades into background noise once I’m moving, and I’m grateful for that.

Micah stays at the counter while I work, nursing a mug of coffee and reading something on his phone. I drift over when I get a minute.

“You don’t have to stay,” I say.

“I know.” He doesn’t look up.

“Seriously, Micah. Go do something with your day. Sleep. You were up half the night.”

“So were you.” He sets the phone down and looks at me. “I’m finishing my coffee.”

“It probably went cold twenty minutes ago.”

He looks at the cup. Then he signals for a refill. I laugh and pour it for him, shaking my head.

“Thank you, baby girl,” he whispers, letting his eyes rake over me as he picks it up. I shiver, heat pooling low in my belly. I have to look away before I do something stupid like lean across the counter and kiss him. He smirks like he knows exactly what I’m thinking and goes back to his phone.

The bell above the door jangles and Jamie breezes in. He makes a beeline to the counter, his bag hitting the stool before he sits on it with an exhale like he’s just barely made it. He peels off his jacket and settles in.

“Coffee, Sage. Stat! It’s been a morning.”

Then he stops.

He looks at Micah and his jaw drops open. “Do you know him?” he whispers as I pour his urgent coffee.

I can’t help my grin. “I do.”

“Oh my God. He’s so . . .” He pauses like he doesn’t know how to describe Micah’s look. “He could be a model. That face should be on billboards and in magazines.”

“I don’t think that’s his style. But I do agree, the man looks like he was photoshopped.”

Jamie’s eyes widen as he nods. “Mhmhm!”

We’re talking quietly, but when I glance at Micah, he thankfully gives no indication he just heard Jamie gushing over him—or me for that matter.

“He’s very—” Jamie tilts his head. “Is androgynous the right word? Like, beautiful in a way that makes you unsure which direction you’re attracted from?”

“Please don’t say that to him.”

“Obviously I’m not going to.” He leans over the counter. “Is he one of yours?”

I open my mouth. Close it. But the smile spreads anyway.

Jamie’s eyes go wide.

“Oh my God,” he breathes. “He is.”

“Can I get you some pie today?”

“You can. And then you need to come back here immediately because I feel like there is information I’ve been denied.” He leans back on his stool, watching Micah with open delight. “Also he’s got a wonderful reading face. Like a professor. I’m obsessed.”

I set the coffee pot back in its cradle before I cut a slice of pie. When I come back to the counter, Micah is standing, wallet out, and he catches my eye and tips his head toward the door.

“I need to head out. But Knox will be here soon, okay? You won’t be alone long.”